Translocation
by Akumokagetsu
Summary: Ichigo and co. have found themselves in a mysterious new world, fraught with danger... And by danger, I mean a viciously rabid fan-girl and her none too cooperative brother. Let the chaos commence.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell!

**Welcome To Hell: A Story in Which Things Happen!**

**Disclaimer: The only things I own are the title, a couple of OCs, and a pocket full of awesome. Please don't sue. You wouldn't get much, anyway.**

It all started off so innocently. An average, warm and breezy day, with hardly a cloud in sight. A clear forecast for the entire week, as far as weather was concerned, with lazy days ahead. Birds chirping, friendly people, and an overall air of inactivity and peace. Those rare, quiet days which are easily appreciated. Two such _supposedly_ appreciative people stood on a balcony in the cool fall breeze, watching the sun rise.

"This freakin' sucks." Donald Miller stated frankly, tipping his white coffee mug, half full of rapidly cooling liquid over the edge of the wooden balcony. He watched it fall with a satisfying splat to the ground floor below. Or, more accurately, into the small (dying) rose garden, belonging to the second member of the two-story household, and a very angry sibling.

"Dammit, Donny! You're killing my poor babies!" Shouted Danielle, slapping her twin brother upside the back of his head with her already-empty black mug. The dull 'thunk' resounded throughout the woods surrounding the estate, loud enough to send a flock of nearby birds into the air. "Have some respect for your elders!" she continued angrily, still shaking her mug at him, as if to whack him again.

"Gah! That friggin' _hurt_! They're just a bunch of stupid flowers, chill out!" Donald replied, rubbing the growing lump on the back of his head. In truth, it hadn't really hurt, considering the fact that just getting to his head underneath that swarming mass of untidy brown hair was already known as quite a feat. He swirled the last swigs of coffee around in his cup, staring out at the rising sun, not quite bright enough to blind anyone yet. Danielle did the same, retaking her place beside him as if nothing had ever happened.

"Besides," said Donald, "the only reason you're considered my _elder_ is because you were born eight-and-a-half seconds earlier. Doesn't count." Danielle, leaning on the balcony whilst readying the same reply she'd always give whenever Donny gave that line, was interrupted the moment she began speaking. And, by 'interrupted', I mean she nearly fell off the lofty wooden perch when a massive explosion rocked the air. Donald, of course, was equally surprised, and attempted (failingly,) to hide the fact that he had jumped just as high. _Reflex,_ he told himself. Unconvincingly.

The 'boom' in question sounded like a hundred sticks of dynamite stuffed into a barrel, if the barrel were made of fire. Loud, angry fire. The twins looked back at each other before turning to their left, which led off to an enclosure away from the house. Technically, a quite recent enclosure, as it was just created by the explosion. The explosion itself, however, was deemed quite the mystery, as Donald had never heard of any type of explosives that could level a large area without leaving any fire or burn marks. His sister seemed to be more concerned with finding out _what_, exactly, had caused the noise which had very nearly knocked her to the ground.

Despite their curiosity, neither one of them moved for several moments, each of them waiting for any signal of movement, their eyes wide. Of course, NOW the surroundings had to become totally silent, adding a bit of a creepy air to the entire situation. After the initial shock had worn off, Danielle stopped staring into the brand-spanking new Northern enclosure and brushed her jet-black hair out of her face with her fingers. She was the first to move, choking out a jittery "We should check that out." Oddly enough, it sounded much braver than she felt, as she didn't have a large history of looking into things that went 'boom'.

Donald, however, was already inside and rushing barefoot down the blue carpeted stairs by the time she'd mentioned it, leaving her to follow with an annoyed "_Hey!_" He was secretly glad that the furnace had decided to have another one of its fits and stop working for a few hours at five o'clock in the morning. God knows the noise he'd have made if the noise had woken him instead of just startled him. He chuckled to himself at the ruckus he'd doubtlessly have made, and the thought of it scaring Danielle senseless only made him laugh harder. Danielle didn't have any difficulty catching up to him, her small feet (with actual _shoes_ on, unlike Donald,) practically flying over the clipped green grass.

The two reached the clearing in a matter of minutes, with only Donald out of breath. A fact Danielle was quietly proud of, having been on the school track team before the school had closed down due to 'mysterious circumstances.' It would reopen in a few weeks, along with an attempt to behave as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, but that isn't the topic of our story today.

The twins slowed to a cautious pace and walked amongst the evergreens, feet crushing a few pine needles littered amongst the forest floor. With the sun slowly rising, it really was a pleasant sight, the soft orange and yellow glow resting lightly upon the area. It would have seemed much more serene, if not for the one teeny, _tiny_ little problem that had arisen due to recent circumstances.

And by that, I mean that there were bodies lying all over the place.

Not that they were corpses or anything as unsettling as that. A quick investigation into the nearest of the 'bodies' in question by Donald settled the enquiry as to whether they were breathing or not. Although, from the look on his face, you'd have thought that he might have preferred corpses. It probably would have creeped him out a little less than the sight before him.

"Well?" Danielle asked tentatively, still lagging a bit behind (in case there were any more explosions. Not that she was frightened by anything, oh no, certainly not,) as she watched Donald slowly stand up. Donald rose quite slowly, his head bowed, and even seemed to brush the dirt off of his pajama legs pensively. When he had finally stood completely up, Donald took his chin in his hand and scratched for a moment, staring vacantly into the distance.

"Well, indeed," Donald eventually replied.

"What do you mean, 'indeed', nimrod?" Danielle asked impatiently.

"I mean, you might want to see this for yourself. Take a look," He said, pointing, if a bit disbelievingly, at the person in front of him. She drew up close to Donald, and peered down at the mysterious individual.

Her first thought consisted of _Well, I know it's cold, but does he __**really**__ need robes?_

The thought immediately following that one consisting of _Wait, robes? It totally clashes with the orange hair._

Of course, the thought following _that_ thought was quite jumbled, as she was very confused, and sounded a bit like _Wait a minute, _and _Is that a giant cleaver on his back?,_ along with a dash of _You can't possibly be serious, I must still be asleep._

Danielle came to the same conclusion that Donald had while staring at the figure with _weird hair_, albeit, a short while later. Her eyes slowly widened as she put two and two together, and the sheer _enormity_ of the situation, as she rapidly gazed at the rest of the sleeping persons, hit her.

Hard.

"Oh…"She began.

"Fuck." Finished Donald, their thoughts apparently being along the same level for once.

They jumped back in shock as the 'figure with weird hair' in question stirred.

'Oh, fuck.' Indeed.


	2. Chapter 2: Meet the Millers

**I'm back again, everybody! It took a bit longer than expected to finish this one. School work has a tendency of interrupting when you least expect it. Thusly, I was presented with an ultimatum, leading to the only coherent thought I could muster early in the morning:**

**F**k homework, write fan fiction. ;D**

**Enjoy!**

_**Disclaimer:**_** The only things I own don't amount to a whole lot, and I don't own Kubo's franchises. Poo.**

Poke.

Poke.

_Poke._

Danielle poked what she sincerely hoped was a deluded cosplayer in the back of the head with a stick she'd picked up nearby. After a few more moments of this and nothing happening except the sun continuing to shine, she'd move onto the next unconscious person and poke them in the head with the stick, too. Donald simply stood there in disbelief, both at the numerous people that were scattered around, and at the fact that his annoying-as-hell sister wouldn't stop saying "Poke. Poke. _Poke!_" whenever she'd chosen her next victim.

"…"

"Poke. Poke. _Poke!_"

"… Danni…"

"Poke. Poke. _Po-!"_

"DANIELLE!" Donald shouted out of irritation, causing her to jump as if she had never heard him.

"Yes?" she replied with what she hoped was a sweet face. Fortunately for Donald, he had known her for as long as he could remember, and her faux-innocence didn't fool him in the slightest. She was still kneeling down next to another of the people. The 'victim' in particular also had orange hair, albeit with what appeared to be a grey school uniform instead of a shihakusho like his double.

Out of nowhere, the orange headed double leaped up in shock, flailing wildly and shouting,

"GAAAH! NO, WAIT, I DON'T WANT TO BE TURNED INTO WAFFLES!"

Which, of course, only prompted blank stares from the twins. Well, I should rephrase that.

Prompting a blank stare from _Donald_. Danielle, on the other hand, had shrieked in surprise and fallen backwards onto her rump. Donald stored that little memory away to laugh at later. Technically, he wasn't sure whether to laugh later or now, as Kon, as Donald had guessed, began to panic and spin in circles in an attempt to make sense of his new surroundings.

Danielle, rump still sore and ego slightly bruised, had noticed Donald in the corner of her eye, trying (and failing) to stifle his chuckles at her mishap. So, she did the first thing she could think of that would take advantage of someone else's confusion, give her a laugh, and annoy Donald all at the same time. Kon had finally stopped spinning and noticed Donald and Danielle staring at him, and had just opened his mouth to say… well, _something_, when Danielle interrupted. With a noise.

A _loud_ noise.

The most obnoxious noise in the world.

"Beep."

"Oh, god. Danni, not this again," Donald pleaded, a mixed look of exhaustion and exasperation fleeting across his face.

"Beep."

Kon wasn't quite sure what to do. "Uh…" he began, "What?"

Suddenly, Danielle lurched forward threateningly, her arms raised stiffly above her head, and her eyes widened while still managing to retain a blank, robotic look.

"EX-TEH-ME-NATE!" She shouted, flailing wildly in Kon's direction. Naturally, Kon panicked. Again.

Donald closed his eyes, sighed, lifted his worn glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "You are never allowed to watch the Sci-Fi channel again."

"EX-THE-ME-NATE!"

"Aaagh! No, wait! I'm too good looking to die! Take Ichigo instead!" Kon yelped, falling backwards in fear by accidentally tripping over another of the unconscious 'visitors'.

This one (the one lying face down in the dirt, silly,) made some sort of strangled howling noise, as Kon unwittingly kicked him in between the legs. _That_ is certainly a way to wake someone up. The man in black robes with tribal tattoos flailed about as well, though for obviously different reasons. The noise and chaos began to wake the few others still sleeping, leaving pretty much everyone (who wasn't insane) confused.

Rapidly becoming more and more irritated by the maelstrom of disarray, Donald took a deep breath and roared over the commotion of _EX-TEH-ME-NATE! _and _Holy crap, what was that for?_

"**EVERYBODY SHUT THE **_**HELL**_** UP!**" The chattering eventually died down as the newly awakened curiously peered about.

Donald quickly counted out the total number of people, minus himself and Danielle. From the looks of it, five of them had been warped into our world, and Donald found himself wondering how, and more importantly, why. Those questions, however, were pushed to the back of his head as he attempted to take inventory.

_Okay, we've got Ichigo with the cleaver, Kon in Ichigo's body, and Renji. It looks like Rukia Kuchiki is here as well, along with- oh, you have __**got**__ to be kidding me._

The fifth and final member of the group turned out to be someone he didn't particularly care to see. Come to think of it, someone he didn't particularly care to see _ever_. Donald remembered him as one of the cockiest, most violent people on the show his psychotic sister raved endlessly on about. After doing a few YouTube searches and effectively wasting two hours of his life, Donald came to the conclusion that sometimes, life gives you lemons. Other times, life kicks you in the face and steals your wallet before shoving you out of a speeding vehicle and pees all over your favorite books. Even the above seemed preferable to so much as speaking to the blue haired Espada in front of him.

So, Donald did the only thing he _could_ do in this situation.

"… Uh, hello?"

He had expected a reply, or even some sort of recognition that he existed, but Grimmjow just continued to stand in the same place, staring blankly into the distance.

"… Mr. Grimmjow Espada person?"

Mr. Grimmjow Espada person just continued to stare, slightly drooling. Donald wondered if he landed on his head, and voiced his opinion, which somehow got translated into "Maybe he's retarded," on the way out.

Danielle, apparently noticing Grimmjow for the first time, slowly recognized who she was looking at. As soon as she saw the teal colored hair and stomach-hole (still creepy looking,) Danielle let out a high pitched squealing noise and launched herself through the air like a fan girl missile, latching onto Grimmjow's back. At that precise moment, Donald flinched, expecting his "dear" but obnoxious sister to lose her face, or at least a couple of limbs.

Grimmjow just stood there drooling.

"What's up with drooly-dude?" Kon asked Ichigo, who was getting a little creeped out as well.

"I dunno. Hell, I don't even know where we ar- WHAT THE HELL?" Ichigo exclaimed, looking oddly at his hands. "Why does everything look so… weird? Did Urahara slip something into my drink when I wasn't looking?"

"Actually," Donald began, tearing his eyes away from the functionally brain-dead Espada, "you appear to have been transported into an alternate dimension. My best guess is that your physical bodies were transformed upon impact to suit the environment, leaving your perspectives and psyches untouched. It may take a bit of getting used to." He explained.

Ichigo and Renji just gave him a blank look, while Rukia nodded thoughtfully. Kon seemed to have lost interest some time ago, and was inspecting the Espada, with Danielle still latched to his back.

Still latched to his back making that horribly high pitched squealing noise.

"Danielle, please get off of the murderous psychopath, before he kills you."

Neither Grimmjow nor Danielle paid any attention. An attempt to remove Danielle quickly prompted a "NO, HE'S MAI SMEXY GRIMM-KITTEH!"

"…"

Donald only laughed when Grimmjow fell over backwards, effectively trapping Danielle underneath him.

"Bwa-hahahahaha! Sure, you can keep 'im! Hahaha!" Donald clutched at his stomach from laughing so hard, and even a couple of the others grinned.

"Dammit, Donny, that's not funny! He's freakin' heavy! I'm _literally_ being crushed by muscle! Large…. Bulky… well-toned, sexy muscle… and what is that shampoo I'm smelling?" she asked.

"… Okay, first ground rule. Danielle is kept on a leash in the back yard until she's Grimmjow broken."

"SCREW YOU GUYS, JUST GET HIM OFF OF ME!"

Apparently, 'screw you guys,' is the phrase that awakens brain-dead Espada, because it was at that moment that Grimmjow began flailing like a fish on dry land.

And screaming like a little girl.

After _another_ five minutes of trying (failing) to subdue Grimmjow, the twins sweating with the exertion while the others watched (the lazy bastards,) Grimmjow finally managed to calm down enough to ask a question neither of them expected.

"Where am I, and why don't I remember anything?"

"Uh…" stated Danielle.

"And secondly, who's the lard ass sitting on my back?"

Which only earned him a swift punch in the back of the head.

"We- ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT, KITTY CAT?"

"Wha- ow, stop hitting me!" He exclaimed, easily pushing the twins off of his back, and sitting up to look around. Grimmjow rubbed the back of his head, and just sat quietly while the twins brushed themselves off.

Well, Donald brushed himself off. Danielle was bouncing around excitedly, shooting off rapid-fire questions to anyone in range.

Most of which were aimed at Grimmjow.

"Oh my gawd, were you born with that hair? How do you eat with a hole in your belly? Do you work out a lot? I'll bet you do. Can I see your sword, it's awesomeness in a barrel!"

She continued on and on, but Grimmjow seemed unfazed by the barrage of annoyance.

"So…" Rukia asked over the din that was Danielle, "now what?"

"Good question." Ichigo replied. "Hey. You, glasses guy."

"… I have a name, you know."

"Oh, uh. Sorry. My name's I-"

"Yeah, yeah, Ichigo Kurosaki, age fifteen, Substitute Soul Reaper, blah blah blah. I'm Donald, and that bundle of joy is my fraternal twin sister, Danielle."

Ichigo balked when Donald seemingly spouted off his history like it was nothing.

"How-" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I implanted mind reading super slugs into all of your brains, and you're all actually floating around in space above planet Zebes."

His reply only earned stares all around, even managing to quiet Danielle for a moment.

"… You play Metroid?" she asked in a surprised tone.

Donald sighed and readjusted his glasses.

"Everyone, just come inside for an explanation, it'll be easier if you're sitting down. And Danielle, I think you're suffocating Grimmjow."

**Thanks for reading, everybody! Remember, reviews are always welcome, flames included. And by flames, I mean BURN THE MOTHER[BEEP]! Constructive criticism is always deemed helpful. But, most importantly, enjoy.**


	3. Chapter 3: Getting Along Swimminglyish

**I've said it before, I'll say it again.**

**I don't own Bleach. If I did, I still wouldn't be half the troll that Kubo is.**

**Remember folks: the more reviews this story gets, the faster the next chapter comes out. But, most importantly, enjoy!**

Danielle lightly brushed her shoulder length black hair out of her eyes as she calmly set about making tea for seven.

There were several things wrong with this picture.

First of all, Danielle was _terrible_ at making tea. Secondly, Danielle was doing something calmly.

Catch that?

_DANIELLE_. This alone was reason enough for concern, but the real icing on the cake is saved for third. Danielle was the _only_ one doing anything calmly. The other six were milling uncertainly about, with Donald rushing around them.

"Don't touch that, Kon, it's very fragile! Renji, put that down- _no, stop, not the plasma screen!"_ He continued to stir himself into a frenzy, attempting to keep everything in place.

_Crash._

"Dammit Kon, I said that was fragi- no, wait, 'tbreakitdon'tbreakitdon'tbreakitdon'tbreaki-"

_Crash!_

"Yaaaah!"

The confusion was persistent for the next few minutes, with the 'guests' accustoming themselves to the homey, albeit quite spacious, new house.

Many things were moved out of their original positions.

…

Donald has _slight_ obsessive compulsive disorder. You can guess how well things went. Rukia seemed to be the only other one to settle down, selecting a large, comfortable deep-green armchair in the living room corner. Danielle could see her from where she stood next to the kettle, pretending to be very interested in the kitchenware.

Although she may not have seemed it, Danielle was a very bright girl. She often scored top of her classes in school, and while not terrifyingly knowledgeable in the ways of the world, was still a force to be reckoned with. She found some small amusement in watching Donald fly about the place like Bugs Bunny on speed and Red Bull, endeavoring to keep the house spic and span.

Rukia raised an eyebrow, as if to ask, _is he always like this?_

Danielle's own facial expressions read as _yeah, pretty much._

_Sorry about the mess._

_Oh, that's alright. I'm pretty certain that Donald will make sure it's cleaned up shortly._

_In my defense, I blame Ichigo and Renji._

_What for?_

_Because they're idiots._

_Oh, right._

This continued on for a while, until the racket from Donald trying to maneuver everyone into a single room died down.

Ichigo sort of…. _Shifted_ into his own body, popping out a small pill and placing it deftly into his pocket before taking a seat on the black sofa on the far end of Renji. Grimmjow stood around looking at the china on the shelves before making an amused snorting noise, and sat down in the only remaining armchair. Whether it was because he couldn't think of anything else to move to get a rise out of Donald or because he liked the blue color, Danielle wasn't sure.

All in all, Danielle liked the house she lived in. It was nothing spectacular, but was at least as old as she was, if not a little more. Hand-built over a decade ago, as a matter of fact. Her parents had toiled endlessly to create their dream-home, her father even adding in some (very amateurish) carvings of trees and wildlife into the wooden panels around the doors.

Panels which Donald would doubtlessly spend many hours poring over in an attempt to disinfect, now that they had been touched by literally everyone in the house.

Once everyone was settled in, Donald (loudly, due to the panting from effort) dragged one of the conspicuously large table chairs from the kitchen into the living room beside one of the windows, and dropping into it like there were weights placed on his back. Shortly afterwards, Danielle (being just so thoughtful,) brought in cups of tea in mismatched cups, some even decorated in winter style print.

"Er-hem." Donald coughed animatedly into his fist, looking pointedly at Danielle.

Silence followed as everyone turned to look at him.

More silence followed that.

"…"

"You know, normally, an 'Er-hem' is an indication of objection or annoyance."

"…. And?" Danielle asked.

"AND… don't I get any tea?" he asked.

"Sure!"

"… You're going to make me get it myself, aren't you."

"Took you long enough, mister-I-art-more-sophisticated-and-intelligent-than-thee."

"Thou."

"And now I'm not giving you any snacks, either."

"AWWWW!" Donald cried dejectedly, slumping forward before dragging himself back into the kitchen.

"So…." Ichigo asked.

"Oh, right, explanation time!" Danielle exclaimed, jumping up and waving her arms around before freezing mid-wave, both hands tilted palm-open to her left.

"… I have no idea!" before sitting back down, which only earned a groan from Ichigo and Renji, who had both been leaning forward in anticipation.

Rukia just sat with a blank face, while Grimmjow looked to be on the verge of sleeping where he sat. To be truthful, Rukia was almost as interested in Grimmjow as she was their sudden arrival in this new world. Or, more specifically, the hollow hole in Grimmjow's stomach. She had been eying it suspiciously, as if expecting him to lash out and strike someone without a moment's notice, but Grimmjow had been… well, _placid_ ever since he woke up (excluding the destructive romp around the house).

"… Danielle."

"Yes?" she replied, taking a small sip of her tea before setting it with a light _clink_ back onto the saucer.

"… There aren't any snacks _in_ here, are there."

"Was that a statement, or a question?" she asked smugly, reiterating a conversation they'd had a few days before. Which mainly consisted of Donald correcting her grammar, out of habit.

Danielle found it annoying.

Donald had no idea why.

Danielle annoyed her brother constantly.

Donald had a pretty good idea why.

With a sigh, he shuffled slowly back into the living room and reclaimed his seat. For some reason, he was strongly tempted to shove Danielle out of her own chair and use it as a footstool, but pushed the idea out of his head. Probably because she would have kicked the _crap_ out of him.

"Well, I'm going to start off with this. Not this sentence, but the one after this one." Donald said before clearing his throat.

Good grief, sometimes you'd swear the only things he did were for dramatic effect.

"I- er, _we_ have five travelers from an alternate dimension in my… uh, _our_ house. You may or may not believe what I am about to tell you, and you probably won't like it either."

Donald leaned forward while speaking slowly, and gradually picked up speed.

"I am not certain as to how or why you are here, and from all appearances, neither do you. I sincerely doubt that the God of All Things Bacon had a hand in this either."

At this, everyone but Danielle shifted in their seats, uncertain as to whether or not he was joking, and Donald showed no facial expression whatsoever.

Ichigo had begun to develop an eye twitch.

"However, I do know _one_ thing for certain. Everyone you have ever known is not here. Anywhere you have ever been, you will not find near. Everything you have ever known _is a lie_."

"THE MATRIX HAS YOU, NEO! WAKE UP!" Danielle shouted out of nowhere, jumping out of her chair again whilst waving her hands.

Once more, Donald lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

After a short period of silence (that stance Danielle was still standing in was getting a little creepy,) Ichigo spoke first.

"What do you mean, everything is a lie?"

"Well," Donald replied, "Not _technically _a lie. I mean, you exist, you just don't."

Renji nodded a couple of times, then said "…Yeah, that made no sense whatsoever."

"I mean that in our world, your own world is known through manga and anime. Not that I'm any particular fan, but it gets a little difficult to ignore with…. Err, present company."

"Le gasp!" Danielle exclaimed. "You couldn't mean…!"

"… Danni, please."

"YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY SAY…."

"Oh, come on, I'm practically begging."

"THIS LOOKS LIKE A JOB FOR…."

"Aaaaaand here we go again."

"SUPER OTAKU WOMAN! DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA-DA_DAAAAAAAAAAAH!_"

Again, Danielle struck a pose, this time gesturing at the sky.

"… How do I shot web?"

Donald merely looked at the 'visitors'.

"…Renji, I'm not sure in what way, but somehow, this is _your _fault."

Rukia looked a bit shell-shocked at the information. "You mean… we aren't real? Are any of us real _now_, or were we just hallucinating everything? Is _anything_ real?"

Ichigo just sighed. As if she didn't get hysterical enough over ridiculous things, she had to start panicking now, of all times.

Rukia leapt up from her chair and grabbed Donald by the neck, hoisting him into the air. Donald let out a strangled '_hrrk!'_ as she held him against the wall, off the ground.

"IF I NEVER SEE CHAPPY THE BUNNY AGAIN, SOMEONE'S GOING TO SUFFER THE PAIN OF A THOUSAND DEATHS! ALL OF WHICH MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH FROZEN LEEKS!"

"…Um… is anyone going to help Donald…?" Danielle asked tentatively. Not moving an inch from her own spot, of course.

"Nah," Ichigo said, "she gets like that about the stupid rabbit sometimes."

The world seemed to freeze in place, like time itself had stopped inside the room. Even Grimmjow paid attention.

"Holy god. You _didn't." _muttered Renji.

Rukia's head turned close to one hundred and eighty degrees before settling cold eyes on the perpetrator.

"…Stupid…. Rabbit?" she growled.

You had to feel sorry for the twins.

Some people say the screams could be heard for _miles._

**Thanks for reading, everyone.**

**More up soon… or eventually, depending on how soon we can peel Donald off of the wall.**


	4. Chapter 4: Pointless Investigations

**Hello, hello, hello again, everybody!**

**I don't own Bleach… or many cleaning products of similar name.**

**Enjoy, and remember: Reviews = Speedy uploads…. I never mentioned **_**good**_** uploads. (Insert Troll Face Here.)**

A single day.

They hadn't made it a single day, and they were already trying to kill each other. And by trying to kill each other, I mean that Rukia threw various potted plants at Ichigo while he hid behind the couch.

"CALL ME CRAZY ONE MORE TIME! I DARE YOU!"

Danielle simply sipped more of her tea with a slightly pleased look on her face, while Grimmjow sat with his legs over one arm of the chair, watching. He even looked slightly bored, as if he were used to seeing people throw random plants around. He had long since given up on the tea. He couldn't stand it, anyway. Grimmjow had no idea why, but when Danielle handed him the cup, he felt that tea was, quite possibly, the worst thing to ever happen to the world.

Her tea wasn't half bad, coincidentally. He just _really_ hated tea, and it annoyed him that he couldn't remember the reason for it.

Grimmjow sat in the same place throughout most of the day, desperately grasping at whatever memories he could find. The furthest back he could remember, though, was simply appearing in a clearing with strange people staring at him. Before that…. Nothing.

To be frank, it disturbed him.

He also didn't suppose he'd be getting any peace and quiet to mull it over, either, the way Ichigo and Rukia were 'arguing'.

As for Danielle, she was having the time of her life. She had often referred to Ichigo and Rukia as behaving like an old married couple, and now that they were in front of her, it was almost twice as much fun to watch.

Donald was going to have a _fit_ over his plants, though. _Serves him right for pouring coffee all over my roses._ She thought with a mental shrug. The roses were the only plants around the house that Danielle had ever laid claim to, all beginning when she was four. She remembered fondly how she'd clutch tightly at the buds, fresh from the rain, and spouting her new favorite word.

"Mine! Mine!"

Of course, Donald had repeatedly been warning her about the thorns. Well, trying to. It was quite difficult making himself heard over his twin's exclamations of ownership. When Donald attempted to get nearer to make himself heard, she'd jumped to the conclusion that he was trying to steal her 'mines' and instinctively kicked him.

Which, somehow, landed him right into the bed of roses. More specifically, directly into the thorns that Donald had been attempting to warn her of. He wasn't sure what was worse, the sharp pain and bleeding, or the fact that Danielle found it so hilarious that she fell over laughing.

Donald quickly grew to hate those roses.

Donald, however, was viewing a different scene of destruction. He had all but dragged Renji away from the house, both of them walking toward the clearing while discussing their arrival.

"So, what did you see before you took up a landscaping position?"

"Eh?" asked Renji.

Donald merely pointed at the clearing they were headed towards.

"Oh. Well, I was, uh, filling out paper work."

"… Paperwork?"

"Yeah," Renji said, "For Cap-"

"Yes, yes, yes, Sixth Squad Captain Kuchiki, boring as sheet rock, and?"

It threw Renji off for a moment. He still hadn't gotten used to a stranger so casually discussing (and quickly dismissing) his life as if he already knew everything.

To be fair, Donald wasn't trying to appear smug. He simply wished to weed out the large amounts of information that he already had in an attempt to narrow down possibilities. As a result, however, he often came across as impatient, and rather rude when in a hurry.

Either way, it continuously creeped Renji out that Donald had a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of the entire Bleach universe. Some days, Donald cursed his photographic memory. Whereas Danielle had acquired her vast amounts of information through manga, anime, and Kubo-based fan sites over the course of several months, Donald had figuratively absorbed everything he could find about their universe by using the internet, and all in under two hours.

_And those GOD-AWFUL fan fictions. Oh, how I __**loath **__fan fiction._ Donald thought to himself as they neared the clearing. There was a slight, pleasant breeze, lightly ruffling Donald's hair as they walked. He couldn't help but think to himself that Renji resembled a walking pineapple, his red head bobbing along the way. The image brought a small smile to Donald's face as he considered voicing his imagery, but thought better of it and remained silent.

"Well, I was filling out paperwork when suddenly there was a big flash, everything looked weird and then I was here."

"… That's it?" Donald asked as they drew nearer to the 'crash site', for lack of a better term. "No… action or movement that may have set it off?"

"I dunnno," said Renji. "First, everything was like just another day, and then WHAM!" he shouted, punching his palm. "I'm here. No explanation or nothin'…"

"I'm not sure about you, Renji, but I find that… well, a really crappy excuse."

"Eh?"

"I mean, come on! Who just _pops_-"

"I think you mean whams."

"_Whatever._ Who just pops-"

"Whams."

"_WHATEVER!_ Into another universe? Anyone you can think of? No? ME NEITHER!"

Donald heaved a sigh of frustration as the possibilities and numerous attempts at explanations whirled around his mind, all the while making no sense at all.

"I mean, how is that even possible? It sounds like a ridiculously cheap writing gimmick, for crying out loud!"

"… So…" Renji said, trying to change the subject quickly. Somehow, Donald was managing to look calm and collected whilst simultaneously looking like he was on the verge of exploding. It was unsettling, to say the least. "What exactly are we doing back here at the, uh, crash site instead of inside with the others thinking of a plan to get back home?"

Donald seemed to calm down a bit as he focused on the task at hand. He breathed another heavy sigh, and readjusted his glasses, which seemed to be perpetually slipping off the bridge of his nose.

"We're here to examine the scene, and attempt to discover any clues as to how you and the others arrived here. Just look. No need to kill anything… unless you get annoying."

That last part was whispered under his breath, but if Renji heard it, he pretended not to hear him.

One other thing that had been bothering Donald was the fact that he could see Renji at all. From what he had gathered, a Soul Reaper was technically dead, a kind of super-ghost. Alternate theories ranging from proximity based invasive reishi waves to lazy universe writing dashed around behind his eyes. If he didn't stop thinking so much, it was going to give him a headache.

As for the area before them, well…

"Hmm. Tell me, Renji, what do you see?"

"… Trees?"

Another sigh. "Come now, I know you have a brain stem, use it. I meant, what here seems out of place?"

"What, you mean us?"

"No, I mean the trees. Look at how they've been torn up from the ground. Not even a scratch on the tree itself, but it appears as if it's been blown over."

And, indeed, the trees lying around looked as lively as they had the day before…. Simply more horizontal. Many of them had been torn up from the ground, neatly tipped as if the universe had simply pushed away everything in the nearest vicinity in order to make room for the newcomers.

"I find that creepy enough…" Donald mumbled to himself.

"Huh?" Renji asked again.

"Nothing," he replied. "I don't think we're going to get much more information by standing around. Let's head back and see if any of the other's stories differ from yours."

If Donald had been a bit wiser, he'd have realized earlier that leaving three potentially psychotic people with super powers alone in the house with his sister was considered a Class-A Bad Idea.

Those three had no chance of survival. These thoughts spurred Donald onward, with Renji in tow.

The front door was still intact, which was a good sign. The small area lined with coat hooks and the like was also intact, which was a good sign. This room led to the living room, which looked as if a rhinoceros riding a tornado made of cacti had ravaged it. Repeatedly.

Needless to say, this was not a good sign.


	5. Chapter 5: The Day's Not Over Yet

**Welcome back, everybody!**

**You know the drill; assume the position, hands behind your head, no sudden movements, and I don't own Bleach!**

…

**Sorry. I've been hanging around the local police too often, neh?**

_Swallow sadness!_

_**Like a baws-**_

_Send some faxes!_

_**Like a boss!**_

Donald stepped quietly over to his sister's chrome and green radio on the counter and unplugged it, his eyes slowly scanning the destruction around him.

"Dude…" Renji said in a low voice, eyes wide, almost in awe at the sheer level of chaos the others had the potential to wreak in a grand total of five minutes.

The house, which had at one point been clean and orderly, now looked like it had been demolished by a rampaging giant killer Smurf. Blue paint splattered the wallpaper in odd places, and the thick wooden walls had several large, head shaped holes. All of the furniture had been upturned, and the remains of potted plants littered the floor, ranging from a shredded cactus that had been around for several years, to the single begonia lying crushed in the floor near Donald's foot.

Renji turned to Donald, only to find that his face had become an emotionless mask, his left eyelid twitching dangerously behind his glasses. Renji had been trained for combat maneuvers. He had worked for many years, toning his body and senses to become stronger and more attuned to his surroundings. Renji had seen what a wild animal could do when cornered. Renji had seen huge and monstrous beasts and hollows alike, each of them horrifying in its own right.

All of that taken into consideration, the look Donald was giving him was downright _terrifying._

"… Renji."

"Uh, yeah?" he replied.

"… You may want to step outside for a moment."

"… I'll do that."

Renji slowly backed out of the doorway, never taking his eyes off of Donald's back, even as Donald slowly made his way into the den.

On the bright side, Donald found Danielle.

This was also the downside.

Danielle herself was nearly completely coated in what he sincerely hoped was chocolate pudding, holding a wiffle-ball bat and pointing it threateningly in Ichigo's direction, who just so happened to bed duct-taped upside down to a tipped couch, all of its cushions scattered. A shadow was dancing around the room, as if something were hanging from the ceiling. Rukia, back in shihakusho, was wielding a white zanpakuto and holding it at arm's length, also in Ichigo's direction. She was also coated in what Donald hoped was chocolate pudding. To be fair, pretty much _everything_ was splattered with pudding, but the two of them seemed to have been hit by the most of it.

Ichigo merely grinned sheepishly at Donald, as if he were trying to say _Uh… oops?_ without actually speaking.

"… Danielle…"

"Um.. yeah?"

"…. How? Just…. _How?_"

And to top it all off, Donald heard a faint _snap!_, only to find that the something dangling from the ceiling had been Rukia's gigai, suspended from the chandelier by a thin thread.

So, naturally, it landed, pudding and all, on top of Donald's head.

That day, Donald discovered just how heavy a gigai actually is.

_Whoompf._

"_DANIELLE!_"

"Stupid Donald. Stupid pudding. Stupid _everything._" Danielle muttered darkly to herself as she viciously scrubbed at the walls. At this rate, she was going to scrub right through the paint.

That is, if she could get the _other_ paint off, first.

As it turns out, Ichigo had been spared Donald's Pinesol scented wrath, as he hadn't actually been involved in the destruction. Ichigo had noticed Grimmjow toying with the hollow hole in his stomach and letting his fingers dance over his zanpakuto, figured that since Grimmjow hadn't attacked anyone (yet), that he might not be all bad.

A few quick words (which sounded great in his head but sounded like insulting gay innuendo when spoken) later, Ichigo and Grimmjow were at each other's throats and took the fight elsewhere.

_Kon,_ on the other hand, was in a world of trouble. Not only did Rukia and Danielle beat the (well, it _looked_ like it,) crap out of him, but Ichigo was going to have one hell of a sore body when he got back.

Kon shrugged at the thought, and scooped some pudding off the wall with his forefinger and stuck it in his mouth with a _pop_. "Hmm. It's really not bad," he said.

"Gee, thanks." replied Danielle, sneaking up behind him and causing him to jump.

"AAGH! NO, NOT THE WIFFLE BALL BA- oh," he said as she shoved a mop into his hands before continuing down the hall towards the, albeit much larger, second disaster zone.

Kon let out a sigh of defeat, and went back to work.

As for Renji and Donald, well…

Donald had asked Renji to stay behind to make sure they didn't destroy anything else, despite the fact that it left a bad feeling that _something_, somehow was going to go wrong. To tell the truth, Donald would have much rather preferred someone to come along with him in their search, if only to make it easier to find them. Of course, this thought was quickly followed by _Heh. I'll just follow the trail of chaos._

Donald was about half-way down the gravel drive when this occurred to him, and he stopped for a moment.

_Oh, hell, they'll leave an entire trail of chaos!_ And in a panic, Donald spurred himself onward, searching for two of the most violently destructive people he could possibly find. _Why does the world always do this to __**me? **_he thought to himself. He wasn't really concerned about neighbors overhearing their fight, as they didn't have any this far out in the Wyoming countryside. _Then again,_ he thought, _that shunpo thing and the combination of their massive clashing reiatsus would be like nuclear fission in a place like this. Heh heh, those idiots will flatten everything within a specific radius._ He thought with a grin, imagining the two of them slamming headfirst into each other with enough force to knock the other unconscious. Much easier to deal with, that way.

Said grin rapidly vanished when he re-thought it through.

_Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!_

Donal swore to himself that if he ever survived this day, he'd sit them all down and have a long, painful discussion about how average and supernatural physics could fuse together to create something new; headaches.


	6. Chapter 6: More Introductions, Oh Joy

**Hey, hey, thanks for dropping by once again, everybody!**

**I don't own Sega, and I don't own Bleach. If I did, I'd be sipping Japanese martinis and complaining about the… well, everything.**

_Come on, come ON!_ Donald urged himself onward, trying to find Ichigo and Grimmjow before they did any lasting damage.

Meanwhile, in a totally unrelated and definitely _not_-cheap-dramatic-buildup-gimmick, Danielle and the crew had finally finished cleaning. Danielle stood up straight, her back groaning in protest, and dusted her hands. Regardless of whether or not they actually had dust on them, though. Plus, she and Rukia were still stained by the loads of pudding, though most of it had been cleaned up by now.

Turns out, that _kido_ stuff is pretty useful.

As they also found out, Renji is very, very bad at kido, but we'll not discuss _that_ little kitchen accident until Donald returns.

Kon stood wearily, leaning against the broom he had been using.

"Well, now what?" he asked.

Renji and Rukia looked to Danielle, who clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I never introduced you to my collection!" And with that, she took off down the hall toward the living room, several crashes following her.

Which only earned a few blank stares from the others.

Well, Kon was staring anyway, but he's a horn dog, so that doesn't count.

"Don't even think about it." was all Rukia said, Kon's (Ichigo's, really,) head drooping in disappointment.

They carefully followed her to the living room, which was still emitting large quantities of crashing noises, followed by an "AH-HA!"

"I _thought_ he'd hidden it somewhere…" she said.

"Hid what, exactly, if I may ask?" asked Renji, trying not to get on her bad side. What? He'd _seen_ what they'd done to Kon.

"Oh, nothing. Say, have any of you ever seen _Elfen Lied?_"

Donald desperately searched for the two 'vagabonds', as was from now on referring to them as, but to no avail. Wracking his brain for some clue that might assist in depicting their location, he thought back to the large amounts of information he'd absorbed in an attempt to understand his sister's manic ravings about the show's characters and plot devices.

His recollections brought him only random bits, though, none of which were helpful in the current predicament.

_Think. Think! A Menos Grande is depicted as a large collection of hundreds of souls._

_The zanpakuto works by compressing spiritual energy and using it at high rates, resulting in rapid fatigue due to overexertion._

_Spiritual pressure can be used as a tracking device, and Ichigo is often known for his terrible attention to reiatsu fluctuations._

_Kido is only a branch from a tree of-_

_Wait, what was that last one?_

_A tree?_

_No, you moron, before that._

_Kido is?_

_No, no, no! The spiritual pressure!_

_Oh! __**Duh!**_Donald thought to himself as he quickly came to a halt, kicking up what looked like carrots as he did so.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated willfully upon finding Grimmjow's and Ichigo's spiritual pressure.

This only led to Donald standing in the middle of the field with his eyes closed and feeling silly.

_No, wait… there's…. something._

It was like a slight pulse, radiating quietly in the distance to his left. Donald gave a slight grunt of both satisfaction and disquiet.

_It would appear that they are beginning to have an effect on the world around us…. This does not bode well._

(WPOV)

"Wyatt!" I hear from downstairs.

I try to block out the words, so that I can focus on the conversation at hand.

_You know, you really shouldn't ignore her like that, _Blaze's voice echoes throughout my head.

_I know, _ I reply. _I just-_

"WYATT EVANS! ARE YOU IGNORING ME?"

"What?" I shout back through the closed door. "No, just, uh…. Doing homework!" in what I hope is a believable voice.

"Well, all right, then…" she says, mumbling something about 'getting the poor boy a hearing aid.'

_Do you have ANY idea of just how bad at lying you are? And you wonder why you never win at poker…_ Blaze says, and I can practically hear the smile in her voice. You know, except for the part where she's not actually speaking, or anything.

I'm fine with the telekinesis-

_Telepathy, Wyatt._

Telepathy, whatever. I _still_ haven't gotten used to the fact that I'm sharing minds with someone, let alone an anthropomorphic purple fire-tossing cat from another dimension.

What? It's too _crazy_ to make up, I swear!

I jump up from the bed that I was sitting on, and pull out the device I use for jumping between the dimensions.

_Don't you actually have homework to do? _she asks.

_Yes, but I'm also bored off my ass. Besides, this thing is frickin' awesome, why WOULDN'T I be using it at every opportunity? _I ask back.

_Because trans dimensional teleporters can be dangerous when over-used, you should know this by now. Seriously, I thought we went over this the LAST four times you tried to procrastinate with your homework!_

_We did,_ I reply, _but if I didn't, we'd have never gotten to have that nice picnic on the beach, remember?_

_What, you mean the one that your 'identical buddy' 'accidentally' ate? Nothing and nobody should be able to put away that much food, that quickly._

_What can I say? _ I head-say, _he takes after his daddy._

A short period of silence followed that.

_You know what? _I say. _I'm just going to pretend that didn't sound NEARLY as creepy as it actually did._

_Agreed._

And with that, I tap a couple of buttons, and wait for the portal to open. Strange thing is, it takes a few seconds extra longer than it usually does, and that whole 'dangerous' thing comes to mind….

Hah! Screw that! I saved the world, I _live _for danger.

And with that, I really should have noticed that the color was a little off, too….

I expected to land on Mobius, to feel my form change into my regular 'other' body, the ears sliding up my head, the red fur I'd grown so used to.

Instead, my human body feels like I'd just peed into a light socket.

Which, by the way, is _way_ more difficult than it sounds.

It was like jumping into a cloud, if said cloud were made of raw chaos and electricity. I don't really think about it much, but electricity effing _hurts._ At first, it's like I'm being propelled along by some kind of static force, jolts of electricity zapping me and pushing me forward through random images.

"Schrödinger, do you haff ze report?" a tall man in a white lab coat asked, the dim light reflecting off of his strange, multi-faceted glasses.

"Ja, Herr Doktor, I haff ze-"

Schrödinger, a boy with a cat's ears and tail in a Nazi-esque uniform (the boy, not the tail, silly,) was interrupted by what sounded like a mixture between the buzz of static electricity, the _whampf_ of a release of a large smoke cloud, and a cheap Falcon-Punch sound.

Before them stood the strangest amalgamation of red cat and boy that the two had ever seen before, and he wasn't even done shapeshifting yet. It was as if the entirety of his molecules were struggling to regain control of the rest of him, and fighting a losing battle. With another _whampf,_ he was gone, leaving no trace that he had ever existed.

"… Herr Doktor, did you just shee-"

"No, Schrödinger, I did not shee."

"… Good, Herr Doktor, I did not shee."

"I did not shee eizzer, Schrödinger."

"Whatever, I still say you're cheating... somehow!" 'Tank' Dempsey shouted.

Tank sat in front of an old, upturned wooden crate, several cards in his hands and before him.

The German man across from him hid behind a hand of cards in a bad attempt at hiding the massive grin he was wearing.

"Vhy, Dempshey, I haff no idea vhat you shpeak of."

"Bull shit! Seriously, who wins at Go Fish seventeen times in a row?"

"I sink zat ze proper qvestion ish, 'who _loses_ at Go Fish sheventeen timesh in a row?"

"… Fuck you, Eddy."

A strange burst of static electricity interrupted them, as a strange, morphing red cat-boy appeared out of thin air behind them, shouting something alien.

Actually, it was more of a complex string of swear words and preferred curses, but you get the picture.

He noticed the two, an tried to wave, but vanished in another zappy-puff before he could manage it.

"… Eddy, did you see…"

"No, Dempshy. I did not shee."

"… Good, Eddy, I didn't see."

"I did not shee, eizzer, Dempshey."

(WPOV)

The painful static jumping thing gets more sporadic the more places I 'jump' through. I guess 'jump' is

used generously, because it's feeling less like I'm being pushed along and more like I'm being pulled. Eventually, I even start to lose the jumping feeling, like it's just one long continuous and increasingly fast pull in one direction. If it weren't for the massive amounts of pain from my atoms being yanked along like a yo-yo in some weird time stream, this would be pretty exhilarating!

At this point, though, the jabbing, stabbing pain gets so intense that my vision begins to blur, and I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Stream. Thing. Whatever. I don't even care anymore, and I can't hear Blaze…

(BPOV)

_Dammit, Wyatt, why aren't you answering me?_ I shouted again, until a strange feeling came over me. Usually, I could feel Wyatt's presence at all times. It was like having him next to me, even when he wasn't here. And then, out of nowhere, he was just…. Gone. Like he didn't exist anymore.

Inaccessible.

And, for the first time in a long time, I felt very, very alone.

And at the very _thought_ of Wyatt being injured?

Heh heh.

Blazing white fire pulsed around my fists and up over my purple furred arms.

All Hell is going to break loose.

_**MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH…**_

"So, if we _are_ real," Renji continued while toying with an unopened green soda can, "then that means that there might be _other _universes that are just shows in this world."

"Go on…" Rukia said, leaning back into the couch next to Danielle, slowly reaching for more buttered popcorn.

They had just finished watching _Elfen Lied_, and, as Danielle had (wickedly, I might add) hoped, it disturbed the three of them.

Quite badly.

She had to admit, Kon's reactions had been the best. He'd been scared at all the right times. She _loved_ it when someone else got so wrapped up in a show that they forgot where they were.

Which led to a _lot _of gasps (and the occasional girly screech) from Kon.

Who, of course, pretended it had been Rukia.

Who, in return, punched him in the head.

"What's the point you're getting to, Renji?" Rukia asked him as he sat in the armchair pensively.

Renji continued to shake the green can distractedly, trying to master the new drink before Rukia could. He _still_ couldn't get it open, of course.

"Well, if the twins here are real, and _we're_ real, then who's to say there aren't an _infinite_ number of universes, all of them connected in some way?"

This earned him blank stares from both Rukia and Kon (Donald had already covered said theory many, many times with Donald,) and when even _Kon_ is skeptical, something's got to be wrong with your logic, right?

"That" said Kon, readjusting himself in his seat, "is the _stupidest_ thing you have ever said, and you say stupid crap ALL the time."

In, perhaps, the greatest form of irony of all time, the large plasma screen television whirred to life in front of them, a glaring orange light blaring forth.

Immediately, a mangled mess of a person/cat hybrid burst out with a gust of static wind.

"HOLY HELL, SHE HEARD ME! SHE'S GOING TO KILL US ALL! WOMEN AND KONS FIRST, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES, IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, AND I DON'T FEEL FINE!" Kon screamed as he leaped out of his chair, only to land face-first onto the floor. Renji, the only one without a gigai (excluding Danielle, of course,) whipped his zanpakuto from his side, shouting "Roar, Zabimaru!"

Rukia leapt up at the same time, popping a small pill into her mouth, and jumping out of her own uniformed (and pudding stained) gigai and wielding her blade in front of herself.

Danielle barely blinked.

_Well, _she thought. _I really should be getting used to some crazy shit by this point, but things like this always manage to surprise m- is that a CAT?_

(WPOV)

I fling myself at the light with all the force I have left, which, unfortunately, isn't much. I'm totally drained by this point, like I've been bench pressing boxes full of Canadians for hours.

BIG boxes. Made of rock.

Seriously, who puts Canadians in a rock box? That's just messed up!

By now, I'm realizing that my brain is shot, figuratively speaking. I can't seem to focus, and there's a ringing in my left ear. I feel the feline features fading away, the ears slipping back into place where they always are on my normal, human body, and the tail retracting.

Which, by the way, is uncomfortable as _hell_.

I don't know what screwed up world I've managed to land myself in. Maybe it's _the_ Hell. I wouldn't be surprised if Hell looks like some old couple's living room.

I slowly lift my head up off the floor, now completely human, and look directly into the eyes of Satan himself.

Herself. Whatever. Not bad looki- nope, stopping that thought right there before Blaze strangles me. On that note, I can't seem to contact Blaze. Huh. I could try to toss a fist full of fire at She-Satan, but I barely have the strength to keep my head up. I hear a loud bang, and the She-Satan's demon minions screaming and cackling at me, and everything goes dark.

In the confusion, Renji dropped the "Meew tin doo… shut up, Rukia, we both know my English sucks," and after taking the shaking and beating that it already had, it was reaching its little can limits. When the figure burst out of the television, the can rolled over to Kon, and, having taken as much damage as it could, exploded, ripping a hole right through the side. The resulting explosion made a violent _bang,_ showering Kon from the feet up, who screamed like a girl and leapt away.

Renji, 'hardened warrior' he was, laughed so hard that he fell over. Rukia merely shifted from foot to foot, as if deciding if she were supposed to be laughing or serious, like she had received really lousy acting lessons. Danielle did her best to ignore Kon (which was difficult, as he was still screaming 'I'VE BEEN SHOT!') and instead focused on the anthropomorphic red cat-turned-boy on the floor in front of her. She did her best to give a friendly 'welcome to the neighborhood' smile, which, in reality, only looked like a malicious grin.

She honestly couldn't help it. She was practically the _reincarnation_ of mischief. The boy finally, and rather quickly, passed out in front of her, just as the glowing orange portal behind him snapped shut with a _whampf._

Danielle just found a brand new play-mate.

(BPOV)

I'll find Wyatt, wherever he is, and bri-

…

"Blaze, is everything all right? Did you find Wyatt?" Soriah asks.

"No. And as Wyatt would put it, I think 'I just felt a disturbance in the force' and I don't like it."

"… You're going after him, aren't you?"

"Damn straight."

Danielle looked down on Wyatt, reaching to help him up, when she shuddered.

_I think I just felt a disturbance in the force!_

…

_Vader, is that you?_

…

_No?_

…

_Damn._

Donald finally came to a stop, finding Ichigo and Grimmjow duking it out. Ichigo had his massive cleaver shaped zanpakuto unsheathed, weaving back and forth between Grimmjow's bare hands as fast as he could, a scowl on his face. Grimmjow, though, seemed to be having the time of his life. "Come on, is that all you've got? Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing, and I'm _still_ beating the crap out of you! Haha!" He turned to see the newcomer, and immediately took a face full of sword for his effort. Which, oddly, enough, apparently had little to no effect on him whatsoever.

_Ah, that would be the Hierro protecting him._

"… The _fuck? _Are you… are you telling me I'm _immortal_ or some shit?" Grimmjow exclaimed excitedly.

This even freaked Ichigo out, though for reasons unbeknownst to Donald. Ichigo did _not_ like the idea of a psychopathic immortal running around. For some reason, Grimmjow reminded him of a crazier, less conversational Aizen. Grimmjow just grinned at Ichigo, and resumed the fight, their battle tearing up the land around them as they fought faster and faster.

_This… does not bode well._ Donald thought yet again.

_If there is a God in heaven, please, I beg of you…. Don't make that my catchphrase._

**Thanks for reading, everyone!**

**Also, the character Wyatt Evans belongs to Hookemhorns12, an awesome writer. Check out his profile, he's got some goodies over there. No windowless vans included, double win!**

**And remember, more reviews means more chapters, so keep 'em comin'!**

… **Seriously, don't make me beg. How will I ever get to the conclusion that Donald has been waiting so patiently for if I'm too busy begging!**


	7. Chapter 7: A Rude Awakening

**Thanks for reading, everyone! I don't own Bleach, Wyatt, Sega, or a working toaster.**

"Look, Danielle, I've done some pretty crazy things-"

"Mm-hmm."

"I blow things up regularly-"

"Mm-hmm."

"Hell, I even fought my own _captain!_"

"Mm-hmm."

"But this… this is just _crazy._"

Renji spoke to Danielle as quickly as he could, nervously fiddling with the hilt of his now re-sealed zanpakuto. Danielle was tying off the last of the balloons, an explosion of color that would make anyone turn their head to avoid being blinded.

Fortunately (or, rather, unfortunately,) the person nearest said balloons was unconscious. The red cat-turned-boy that had popped (whammed, as Renji repeatedly stated,) out of the television set was now lying on his back, the sofa beneath him welcoming him as it did everyone else.

Blandly.

_Come to think of it,_ thought Danielle as she maneuvered more balloons into position, _that couch has got to be the __**only**__piece of boring furniture in the entire house._

"Aside from Donald, I mean."

"What?" asked Renji.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Hand me the pepper."

Although Donald wanted everyone to remain in one spot (_for a bare minimum of five minutes, at least!_) Rukia had followed behind Donald to see if she could help in bringing back Grimmjow.

Oh, and Ichigo, too, of course.

In Rukia's defense, she wasn't quite sure what Grimmjow was doing here. From her previous studies, he looked to be an advanced form of Vasto Lorde, or an Arrancar, perhaps. Most curiously, he didn't seem to be bloodthirsty in the least.

_Whop! Whop! Whop!_

Grimmjow kept his grip on Ichigo's wrist firm, using Ichigo's own hand as a weapon.

"Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself! St-phmphmh- hahahahaha!"

At this point, Ichigo had nearly reached his limit. Grimmjow had been brutally beating Ichigo just moments before, and now he was _toying with him_?

"Let- ow! Let go of- OW! Son of a bi-OW! Raaaagh!"

Ichigo flailed wildly with his cleaver-like zanpakuto in a desperate, last ditch attempt to break free from the teal headed menace. He wrenched his arm free, and swung his sword high over his head.

Donald, regardless of whether or not he had watched as many episodes as his fan-girl sister had, knew a hero pose when he saw it. The sword held high, hero in a desperate situation, the atmosphere mysteriously becoming heavy and difficult to breath in. Ichigo was quickly drawing massive amounts of power.

Well, massive compared to what Donald knew as power.

In truth, Ichigo found this new world to be very empty, almost totally devoid of reishi. There were some random particles floating about, but that was about it. He _still_ couldn't figure out how anything could live in such a desolate place.

But, then again, Ichigo had not yet been to Hueco Mundo, and he wasn't likely to get any answers from the addle-brained war machine that was Grimmjow.

"EAT THIS, FREAK! GETSUGAT-"

"And you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Grimmjow asked calmly, as if he were discussing the weather.

"-ENSHO, MOTHERFUCKER!" Ichigo roared, releasing a blast from the end of his blade and hurling it toward Grimmjow.

Grimmjow's eyes widened at the blue blast of energy flying at him, and he hurled himself out of the way at the last moment, but not without nearly getting his arm torn off. From the looks of it, it was just a flesh wound to the shoulder, but it still hurt like hell.

"You get freakin' _laser beams?_ What bullshit is that?" He exclaimed angrily. "Oh, wait. I have a weapon too, huh." He ignored the pain in his left shoulder and drew his own blade, and pointed it at Ichigo. Ichigo took a step back in panic. He had thrown as much force into that swing as he could, and it _still_ wasn't enough. Grimmjow didn't even seem to notice it anymore.

Grimmjow, his blade leveled at Ichigo, grinned.

"My turn, carrot top! GETSUGATENSHO!"

"…"

"… Seriously? I get jack _shit_?" Grimmjow asked the sword, speaking directly to it.

"I mean, come on, man. That's not cool. He gets super lasers, and I get, what, a pointy paperweight?"

Ichigo didn't know quite what to make of the situation. Donald, picking himself up off the ground, dusted himself off, and said "If you're both _quite_ finished-"

"Ah, screw it. I always wanted to murder someone with a paperweight. I think."

And with that, dashed through the air toward Ichigo and swung.

_Yeah,_Rukia thought to herself, _I'll bet he's really just a big teddy bear. Kind of like Chad. Even though Chad could level a city block if he got angry for stubbing his toe. Yeah. A big. Deadly. Teddy bear._

"Ah, screw it. I always wanted to murder someone with a paperweight. I think." she heard, and continued running toward the sound. The spiritual pressure around her had risen considerably, and it took her a bit more effort to run toward them. _I could've left the gigai. I __**could've**__ left the gigai. But, No, you said, leaving Kon with your gigai spells trouble, you said._ Her internal monologue nearly killed her, the bloody body of Ichigo flying into her.

"Oomph!"

Ichigo merely bounced off of her, readying Zangetsu for another strike.

Donald struggled to lift himself up again, the pressure in the air nearly crushing him. It felt as if his every molecule were being strangled and suffocated, and shoved into the ground. Donald gritted his teeth, his vision beginning to go black around the edges.

Donald had suffered through quite a lot that day. Interdimensional travelers, total lack of explanations, his house wrecked from the inside out, near death at the hands of two people Donald sincerely wanted to _stay_ fictional, and his favorite potted plant had been killed.

There comes a point when a person simply cannot take any more. Donald considered himself remarkably strong willed, what with _not_ punching his sister in the head, despite the strong urge he got whenever she began (loudly) spouting gibberish about her current favorite anime-based character. Danielle had often punched Donald in the head, but his thoughts always ended with _I just don't have the heart to punch her back right now,_ or _I don't hit girls. _

Or, more recently, _she's going to __**tear my arm off**__ if I move. She's just crazy enough for it._

After the day Donald had, he wanted to go find a quiet place and relax with a book, not look death in the face. However, even death itself recoiled at the anger Donald felt now, the blackness around the edges of his vision trembling dangerously.

Grimmjow and Ichigo were so busy attacking and counter-striking that they didn't notice Donald shrug off the spiritual pressure that had previously been crushing him, and rise to his feet. His brown hair had fallen in front of his eyes, and in his hands lay the remains of his most precious possession.

"Who broke my glasses."

It was quiet, almost a whisper, but the pair heard him, regardless. Ichigo was the first to turn, and Grimmjow followed suit, lowering his zanpakuto.

"I asked you a question."

Again, so quiet that it was almost a whisper. Donald could barely be heard above the rustle of the wind, but neither the two of them nor Rukia made a single sound. Ichigo and Grimmjow glanced at each other nervously.

Donald seemed to be emitting his own dark aura, a weightless, lilting, but somehow foreboding air around him.

"Who. Broke. My. Glasses."

Ichigo had faced some pretty scary things. Grimmjow, for one. Hollows by the hundreds. Hell, he'd even been nearly _cut in half_. But this kid was _really_ starting to freak him out. His only consolation was that Grimmjow didn't seem to be faring any better. Instead of answering , the two merely looked at each other and shrugged.

Rukia, who had watched the last few minutes with interest, decidedly began backing away slowly.

_This… does not bode well. For Ichigo, anyway._

Donald noticed her edging away in the corner of his eye, never lifting his head, or even raising his voice when he spoke.

_Clever girl._

"Seriously, Danielle, I've done some bad things-"

"Mm-hmm."

"But this is _really_ messed up." Renji said, though he hadn't stopped helping her. After deciding that assisting her wasn't worth the trouble, Kon tried to play stubborn to spite Danielle.

In return, she lifted him by the back of his (Ichigo's) shirt, tossed him into the hallway closet, and promptly locked the door.

Kon was not a happy camper.

"Are you sure this is even _legal_ in this country?" Renji asked.

"Of course I am. Now are you going to hide the gravy, or do I have to do it myself? Heheheh. Hide the gravy. Didn't think I'd be saying_ that_ today."

The many multicolored balloons that littered the place had all been rounded up, if with some difficulty. Firstly, it was difficult because Danielle had to tie all the balloons together, prepared with duct tape and tacks, so if one popped, the rest would follow suit. The balloons were all dangling precariously from the ceiling, shining menacingly.

Or, more specifically, dangling directly over the body of the newcomer.

After coming to the conclusion that he was just unconscious, Danielle had set about setting up her latest prank, giggling in anticipation. As soon as the new person moved, he'd… well, let's just say that he'd be very, very unhappy, and leave it at that.

"Still, this seems kind of mean…" Renji continued.

"Just imagine that we're pranking Kira for going drinking with Hisagi and Matsumoto without inviting you."

"Heheh, yeah, th-wait, they did WHAT without me? The heartless _bastards_!... Wait, how did you know that?"

"I never said I did, but it does sound like something they'd do, neh?"

"I guess you've got me there."

"IS ANYONE GOING TO LET ME OUT?" Kon asked, his voice muffled by the door.

"Eventually," Danielle called back. Now to just sit back and watch the chaos unfurl….

Donald and Rukia were nearly back at the house, with an unconscious Grimmjow and Ichigo in tow. Both looked to be fairly beaten up, though Donald didn't have a single scratch on him.

He even seemed to be a little more cheerful.

Not by much. But a little.

He sighed internally as he reached for the doorknob.

_Well, thank god there were only five of them. I don't think I can handle any more today._

He readjusted his broken glasses on the bridge of his nose, and opened the door.

Of course, Donald had no idea about the string attached to the other side, leading directly to the ceiling.

"AAAAAUGH! DEAR GOD, WHY? THERE'S GRAVY IN MY HEDGEHOG WOUNDS! AAAAAGH!"

Somewhere far away, Blaze the Cat shivered, and continued on her search.

**Thanks for reading everyone! Review to your heart's content! Remember, reader input is important. I need more reviews patch up Donald's glasses.**

**All right, I lied, reviews won't patch Donald's glasses.**

…

**Or **_**will**_** they?**


	8. Chapter 8: NOW Is It Over?

**Hey-howdy-hey, everybody! Thanks for reading, and, as expected, I don't own Bleach, Wyatt, or Sega.**

**Believe you me, if I did, I'd fill a kiddie pool with cash and f***ing **_**roll in it. Yeah.**_

**Enjoy!**

"Danielle… the only way to describe you is by calling you the hideous child that the Norse god Loki and Satan had out of wedlock. _That's_ how disruptive you are."

"_Sniff!_But, but, I'm not disruptive, Donald, honest…. Right, Renji?" Danielle asked.

Renji merely darkly muttered something about _zanpakuto should have been a broom_ and _doing all the cleaning._

"Seriously, Danni," Donald continued, "you couldn't have at least _tried_ to tell me that another freak dropped out of another dimension?"

"HEY!" they heard from the kitchen, where the newest 'prison mate' as Renji mock-affectionately called him, was desperately trying to scrub off the coalescent glop of chili powder, gravy, and glitter.

"I would like to apologize for my sister's actions. I do hope you'll forgive her; she has a rather special condition."

"I do?"

"Yes, but fortunately, stupidity is not contagious."

"… You really are the master of subtlety, aren't you, Donny?" her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I don't care how many visitors from alternate dimensions we get; when we have guests, they are to be _greeted, _not _marinated_!"

"I said I was sorry," she replied, her head drooping slightly. She immediately began giggling again, however. "But it was _still_ freakin' hilarious! Hahahaha!"

Donald sighed and pushed his slipping glasses further up the bridge of his nose. _Please tell me these people arriving here will lead to her being sucked into an alternate dimension. I could only imagine the peace and quiet…_

Donald rather liked this train of thought, but pushed it out of his mind.

Donald could be quite cruel, if he wanted to; but trapping innocent people with his sister? He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies.

Ichigo, bruised and crumpled on the (now cleaned and vacuumed!) living room floor, lay next to Grimmjow, who looked to be in equally bad condition. _Well, _he thought, _maybe a COUPLE of people._

The broken glasses that Donald still wore were missing a frame, and a jagged gash ran along the side, albeit a thin one.

"Ehm… Donald?"

"Yes, Danielle."

"Did those two just fight an awesome battle outside?"

"Yes, Danielle."

"And they just… knocked each other out?"

"… Yes, Danielle. That is what happened."

"Don't…. don't you think we should help them?"

"Ah. Yes, you are quite right. After all, they're probably starting to get blood on the carpet."

"… That's…. not _exactly_ what I meant, but, okay."

A muffled _Mphphhph! _echoed from somewhere down the hallway as Donald made his way to the living room. Intrigued, Donald followed the sound until he came across the source. He grabbed the polished iron handle on the closet door and tugged.

A bundle of what looked like clothing, flesh, and the offspring of the Green Giant fell at his feet, gasping for air.

"… Danielle?"

"Yes, Donald?" he heard from the dining area.

"… Why was Ichigo's body locked in the hallway closet?"

"Kon disagreed with me."

"Understandable…. But why did you have to spray paint him _green_ first?"

"… Technical difficulties."

"That doesn't even-!"

"TECHNICAL. DIFFICULTIES."

Donald sighed and, with his left hand, toyed with the glass shard in his pocket as he continued toward the living room.

"Oy." he said, alerting Rukia, who had been sitting in an armchair, staring at the two in the floor.

"Yi-! I mean, yes?" she stammered nervously. Ever since the incident with Donald, she had refused to look him in the eyes. Adding to the fact that he pretended it never happened made it slightly creepier, somehow.

"Don't you know some type of healing maneuver, that… _kido_, was it?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well… aren't you going to use it to help them?" Donald asked.

"I'm still deciding."

"Eh?"

"Well," she continued, "considering the fact that they beat the stuffing out of each other, I'm contemplating whether or not they're going to do it again anyway if I heal them."

If Donald hadn't known who had 'beat the stuffing' out of them, he'd have found that rather cold.

"Wow," Danielle said loudly from the kitchen. "That was kinda cold. How you holdin' up, kitty number two?"

The boy in the kitchen looked to be even younger than Danielle, though he might have been around fourteen or fifteen. The untidy mess of hair was even messier, due to the obvious clumps of sparkly gravy coating it.

"My name's Wyatt. And technically, I'm not a cat, I'm a person… cat. Thing. Just… shut up and give me that towel." He said, gesturing to the large cloth soaking in the sink, quickly changing the color of the water.

""Kay!" she happily obliged, reached into the sink, and flung it at the bo- sorry, _Wyatt_ with force. The towel flew through the air and hit his face with a wet, loud slapping sound.

"COLD!" he shouted, flailing about, water flying everywhere.

Donald leapt backwards in alarm, accidentally stepping on Ichigo in the process, who only groaned in discomfort before rolling over and going back to sleep.

The fact that water was rapidly flying about his _(their)_ kitchen worried him much less than the fact that everything near Wyatt had _spontaneously burst into flame._

The chair was the first to alight, followed by the table, drapes, counter, and southern wall.

"HOLY HELL!" Danielle shouted, diving out of the kitchen.

With gusto.

Wyatt tore the towel off his face and immediately began waving his hands about, apparently trying to calm down the flames.

"JANE, STOP THIS CRAZY THING! Heh. I'm just choc full 'o goodies today." He said to himself, suppressing the flames with his will.

After a few more moments of intense waves of heat flowing out of the kitchen, the last of the flames were extinguished. Donald honestly would have found that vastly interesting, had he not been slightly more preoccupied. Wyatt calmly stepped out, brushing imaginary dirt off of his hands.

"See? All taken care of."

"… My poor kitchen…" Donald said sadly.

"_Our_, Donald." His sister added hotly.

Their poor kitchen, indeed. The table and chairs were covered in soot, the wallpaper had curled from the heat, and the floor was coated in scorch marks.

It was at that point in time that Renji decided to come back in to see what all the fuss was about.

Renji took one look at the room, and turned to see everyone (minus Ichigo and Grimmjow,) staring back at him expectantly.

"Sigh… I'll go get the broom."

Several hours later, the sun had set, the darkness outside creeping gently around the window. The stars were hidden away behind ominous looking clouds, dark and fat with the unspoken promise of rain.

"_Man, I can tell you tonight, folks, it's a promise of absolutely NO chance of rain! On to John with sports!"_ the television set rumbled quietly on.

Sleeping arrangements had already been made, as Danielle had insisted on deciding where everyone would stay. After a short argument over the fact that Danielle tried to tuck everyone away in the basement while she and Grimmjow shared a bed (for _practical _reasons, why don't you listen to logic, Donald?) it was quickly decided that Danielle was no longer in charge of sleeping arrangements.

Since both Ichigo and Grimmjow were both still unconscious, Renji helped Donald bandage them up with supplies from the emergency medical kit, while Rukia steadily applied healing kido to them, giving off a faint green light. Afterwards, they helped him carry them upstairs to the rooms, albeit not without complaining.

"Hrrgh! God, Ichigo, lose some weight, lard ass! Have you been eating both of our dinners, again?" Rukia grumbled crankily as she hauled one end of Ichigo up the stairs, with Renji toting Grimmjow bridal style.

And knocking every single picture off the wall with his head. By accident, of course.

**Thanks for reading everyone, and I really hoped you liked it.**

…

**Naw, I'm just saying that because I'm totally review-needy.**

**So…. Reviews!**


	9. Chapter 9: Storm's A Brewin'

**Thanks for coming back for more, everybody! Sorry this one took a little longer to upload. I actually proofread. Lucky you.**

**As usual, I don't own Bleach, Sega, Wyatt, or [ extended list of all the squat I don't own ] and all that jazz. Enjoy!**

The storm clouds outside had become totally black, rumbling about as if ready to slip out of the sky and plummet to the ground. A slight wind had picked up, quietly rustling the trees. After Grimmjow and Ichigo had been 'put to bed', or as Donald preferred, 'stored those creeps away out of my sight', the rest of the crew made their way to the living room. In all fairness, it was only Grimmjow who had been given a bed to sleep on; in the other room, Ichigo had been unceremoniously dumped onto the floor, unbeknownst to Danielle. If she knew, she probably would have objected. In Donald's defense, at least he had the decency to put down newspaper first.

As many of you may have guessed by now, Donald didn't like Ichigo very much.

Rukia had once again taken the armchair, legs tucked beneath her as she absentmindedly fiddled with a small schoolbag she apparently had on her at the time of the teleportation. Donald was flabbergasted that he hadn't paid attention to it before, as he was usually such a stickler for details. Renji sat on one end of the couch, Kon on the other end in Ichigo's body snoring away. He looked rather childish, really. A small smile on his face, as if dreaming of somewhere distant, a pleasant, peaceful place.

Not nearly so appealing was the forefinger unconsciously jammed into his left nostril. Donald shuddered slightly, the mere thought of the innumerable bacteria crawling across said finger. He resisted the sudden urge to coat Kon in multiple layers of disinfectant spray. Donald tried to brush those thoughts from his mind, and readjusted himself in the table chair he dragged into the living room. Danielle had taken her favorite seat against the window, her pale cheek shining against the rapidly fogging glass as she stared wide eyed out at the brewing storm.

"Before we settle in for the night, I have more than a few questions." Donald said suddenly, breaking the silence. Danielle's ears perked, but she didn't turn her head away from the window. Renji and Rukia merely stared blankly at him.

"Uh…" Renji began. "Before that, aren't we missing somebody?"

It took Donald a moment to realize what he was talking about, before he remembered the newest 'hooligan.'

"Oh, you mean Wyatt!" Danielle exclaimed loudly, bouncing up quickly out of her stupor. "Yeah, he'll be back in a minute. I think he said something about 'getting some damn signal' and 'the purple cat will kill us all,' or something weird to that effect."

"…Uh…. Huh." Donald preferred to _not_ know what she was talking about, but decided he'd ask Wyatt when he returned, if he could find time for more questions.

Oh, who are we kidding, Donald would find time to lock a family of koalas into a telephone booth and _still_ have time to mercilessly question/judge them for no reason in particular.

… What can I say? He has good days, he has bad days. Back to the story.

(WPOV)

Piece of crap teleporter.

I mean, it's not _my_ fault it broke! The stupid thing probably just… had a really short warranty.

Yeah.

I stomp about on the roof outside, the tiles gripping at my tennis shoes. It looks like it's going to rain pretty soon, and the wind is starting to get crazy. I hold my 'phone' up high in the air, the slightly cracked screen giving off a dim glow. Instead of opening the portal like it normally does, it just shines at me, the signal bars at zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Squat. You get the picture. I'm seriously starting to get ticked off by this point. Blaze is going to _kill_ me when she finds out I broke my te- I mean, that it gets such lousy signal.

Yeah. Better chance of living that way. Honestly, though, I'd love to get back and see her again, but this – _graaah! – _friggin' teleporta-phone-thing won't get – any – friggin' – signal!

I grab the antenna tightly as the wind picks up again, even stronger than before. I can feel the tiles slowly giving way beneath my feet.

_If I don't hurry up out here, I'm going to be struck by lightning; or worse, someone's going to take an awkward photo, because I'm really feeling like an idiot right now._

The thunder rumbles above, ominously growling at me, like even the _weather_ hates me here.

_Fan – freakin' tastic. Nope. Not getting struck by lightning, I'm __**done **__with the shocky-crap._

So, naturally, it was at that point that Danielle's damn roof tiles tear away from the roof itself, and I go slipping off the edge.

_NOT_ screaming like a little girl.

Because, I mean, seriously. I just don't do that.

"Never mind Wyatt," Donald said, "I've waited all day for a chance to ask some _very_ important questions, and I am not about to be interrupt-"

Donald was abruptly cut off by what sounded like even louder thunder than before, quickly followed by what sounded like tearing tile and a little girl screaming at the top of her lungs.

Said screaming made its way toward the ground near the window, and quickly came to an abrupt halt.

"Oh my God!" Danielle shouted, jumping up from her place near the window. As she raced toward the doorway, she ran back into the living room and pushed Renji off the couch, who let out a disgruntled _'da fuq?_ as she sped back to the door. Donald would have found that pretty funny, if he weren't concerned for the safety of the young man outside.

Or if Donald had an actual sense of humor. You know, whatever.

**Sorry that the chapter was so short, people. I promise to make up for it in the next one-**

**It's gonna be a biggie!**

…

**Maybe.**


	10. Chapter 10: A Few Whams Later

**Hello, everyone, and thanks for stopping by once again! As always, I don't own Bleach, Sega, Wyatt, or an automated bacon dispenser. No, seriously, if I had one of those, I'd NEVER leave my house. Enjoy!**

Danielle dashed out the doorway, large, fat drops of rain beginning to fall. She dodged them as best she could (she couldn't) and made her way around the side of the building, Rukia, Renji and Donald hot on her trail. Donald sighed to himself on the way, readjusting his broken glasses as he went. _At this rate, none of them will be alive by morning. _This, though, cheered him up a bit.

If not due to the fact that he wanted them all far, far away, then because he found it ironic that he was still wondering if you could kill someone who was technically already dead. Heh.

"Oh dear sweet Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Jemima banana pogo apple sauce!" he heard Danielle exclaim over the churning wind whipping about them.

"What is it? Did his arms break off? Is he dead?" Rukia asked curiously.

"Naw, of course not, look, the arms are still on him. He's probably dead, though. Your turn to do Konso, or mine?" Renji replied without looking back.

"Well, that depends. If he's dead, then I suppose I'll perform Konso and let you handle disposing of the body…"

"… the hell? Why do _I_ have to handle the body?"

"Because, Renji, I just don't like burying mangled corpses! You spend a lot of time around the Eleventh Division, you know what mangled people look like, just _shut up_ and bury him before he comes back with a vengeance!" Rukia shouted back.

"Uuuurrrgh…" they heard, the low moaning resonating from what appeared to be a tangled mass of vines and red.

"Oh, God! I _told_ you there would be zombies in this world, they're unavoidable! Dammit, Renji, you listen about as well as Ichigo does!" Rukia yelled.

Renji, panicking at the prospect of an undead outbreak (thank Danielle for introducing them to horror movies. She's a little twisted.) grabbed his zanpakuto and said loudly, "How was _I _supposed to know there would be zombies, I thought she was just trying to scare us about 'SCOMINGTOEATOURBRAINS!"

At this point, Donald sincerely wished he had taken the time to grab a pair of ear plugs before running out the door. Or at least some duct tape.

Hey, silence is golden, but duct tape is silver. Cheaper, too.

The _zombie_ in question was stumbling about in a bush, desperately trying to wrench himself free. Donald expected his sister to run along with Renji and Rukia's conversation, and just automatically accept that Wyatt was now a brain munching walking dead guy. Or, at the very least, attempt to help him up.

And then, Donald realized what the poor boy had landed in. The green vines, the crushed and pulverized bright red roses.

For the first time that day, Donald immediately felt a great amount of sympathy and pity for someone. Donald could be scary – _especially_ where his personal belongings were concerned – but he'd had bad experiences with that bush.

Well, not specifically _the flowers_… the self-proclaimed owner, however, was an absolute nightmare. So, when Danielle began walking toward the bush, Donald knew for a fact that she wasn't about to help him up.

Wyatt groaned and sat up atop the bush, rubbing his back and head.

"Hrrgh… Did someone get the plate number on that lightning bolt? Oh, hey Danielle." Wyatt said, apparently deciding that a first name basis was now commonplace, regardless of whether or not they had just met a short while ago. Perhaps it was just Donald's back-and-forth methods of formality.

Wyatt held out a hand, as if expecting a hand up, and began to explain about how that strike of lightning sounded remarkably like a little girl, drowning out his own pained, _quite manly_ screaming, when he was interrupted.

Rudely interrupted.

_Quite_ rudely interrupted.

Danielle's method of interruption just so happened to be planting the heel of her sneaker in his face.

With much force and speed.

"MOTHERF- THOSE WERE _MY_ ROSES YOU JUST KILLED! _MINE!_" she roared at him, knocking him clear out of the bush. Now, not only did Wyatt have numerous bruises and thorn-cuts to deal with, but a shoe shaped dent in his face as well. Donald felt a bit sorry for Wyatt right then, while Renji and Rukia continued arguing, oblivious.

Immediately afterwards, Donald remembered that Wyatt had set his kitchen on fire, and guaranteed him several hours' worth of scrubbing. Donald quickly stopped feeling sorry for Wyatt.

Danielle proceeded to kick him several more times, each time launching him several feet. It was at this point that Donald took note of several things.

Firstly – he was either going to separate Rukia and Renji to lower the noise levels, or glue them both to a rock and wait to see which one killed the other, and at the pace they were arguing, he was leaning towards the latter.

Secondly – the rain was coming down harder, someone was going to wind up with pneumonia if they didn't move rapidly.

Thirdly – Not only was Danielle beating the stuffing out of yet _another_ of these travelers, she was moving with strength and agility that he had not witnessed in her before. True, he had seen her move very quickly (and violently) whenever her roses were injured, but never like this. He made sure to remember her augmented abilities for later, including the fact that she didn't seem to notice her own subtle changes.

Fourthly – Donald _himself_ had already subdued, not one, but _two_ of them earlier that day, though not because he had physically overpowered them. He had, in part, the nearby Rukia with her ever-present memory replacer. Personally, he would have preferred something like the Nueralizer from Men In Black, but hey, you work with what you have.

Fifthly – Rukia herself had assisted in bringing back Ichigo and Grimmjow, yet never mentioned exactly what had happened to the others. Donald suspected that she may have alterior or multiple motives, and quickly resigned himself to watching her closely in case of any signs of treachery. A little paranoia never hurts.

And, finally, Donald came to the conclusion that since obviously Rukia and Renji weren't going to stop Danielle, he was.

Hopefully before she killed Wyatt over the flowers.

He'd settle for after, too, but Donald really just didn't feel like cleaning anything else that night.

"Danielle…"

"-nd of all my favori-"

"Danielle."

"-te things, you _had_ to kill the roses? I've had those since I wa-"

"Danielle!"

"-s five, jerk, _five!_ Or maybe before, I don't remember! Seriously! Of all the things you had to kill-"

"_Danielle!"_

"-THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS!"

"_DANIELLE!_" Donald shouted over his sister and the rain.

"… Yes, oh brother of mine? "

"The roses can be replanted. His face cannot. Stop kicking him."

"… 'Kay." she replied, bowing her head and helping Donald to lift Wyatt up.

As it turns out, she had been using her foot to propel Wyatt, instead of mercilessly kicking the crap out of him as Donald believed her to be.

"Ow… thanks, Donald." And with that, pulled back his fist, tightened his arm, and punched Donald right in the jaw with enough force to knock him into the mud.

Donald sat stunned for a moment, the shorter boy standing over him, his fairly muscled frame stark against the light from the window. The short brown hair caked with mud, coupled with the grim visage he wore was enough to momentarily convince Donald that his sister had the right idea using Wyatt as a punching bag, as he was obviously an alternate dimension serial killer.

Donald brushed the thoughts from his head as he rubbed his jaw, and sat for a moment in the mud. Instead of leaping to his feet and joining his twin in the traveler-kicking festivities, he gave Wyatt a leveled look and calmly asked, "Why did you try to shove your fist down my throat?"

"Dude, that was for letting your sister kick the crap out of me. Not cool."

"In defense, you _did_ slaughter the only thing she really cares about-"

"Hey!" she protested. "That's not true, I care about plenty of other things! Like, what time am I gonna eat, or where's my latest manga? Oh, and family. Yeah, I care about them, too."

Donald continued, "also, why didn't you just fight back?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, come now. You have a well-built frame and several scars, obviously from various sharp objects. Swords, and some shrapnel, from the look of it. Your behavior is erratic, I doubt you've had much formal training, but your stance is militaristic, and you started a magical damned _fire_ in my kitchen. You could have taken her, easily. Actually, to tell you the truth, I'd _love_ to see someone turning the tables on Danielle."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Danni, you win too often. It's not good for your already bloated ego."

"Hey!"

Wyatt thought for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could look at it that way. But, in _my_ defense, I don't hit girls. So there."

This hit Donald quite a bit harder than the blow to the jaw did. He had no idea anyone could be quite so…. Well, chauvinistic. Except Ichigo. Ichigo definitely proved to be similar. He made another mental note to remember Wyatt's own vague honor codes of conduct.

"Alright, I get it, I get it. Understandable. Now, what do you say we cease the relentless barrage of idiocy, stop squabbling amongst each other like a bunch of animals, and go inside for some hot chocolate so we can decide where you can sleep until we're able to ensure your safe return home?"

Wyatt scratched his chin, and said, "Sounds good. Truce works whenever there's hot cocoa involved, every time."

Danielle, apparently totally forgetting her anger toward Wyatt, leaped into the air with a "Yay! I'll get the mugs! Donald, get your but inside, you're making the hot chocolate this time." And with that, she dashed back around to the door, and made her way noisily toward the kitchen.

Donald sighed, and readjusted his broken glasses, wishing that they came installed with window wipers. Also wishing that it was against Wyatt's moral code to hit guys with glasses. He began to push himself up when he noticed Wyatt was extending a hand down to him, a slight sheepish smile on his face.

Donald gave him a curious look, and Wyatt proclaimed, "It's like my Mom always told me; you should never look down on someone unless you're helping them up."

"Heh." Donald chuckled as Wyatt helped him to his feet, wiping the mud off the back of his slacks. "Your mother sounds like a pretty smart person."

"She is. I kind of hope I get back soon – the last thing I told her was a lie about homework…"

They began making their way back towards the front door, the mud and rain sloshing around their shoes, Wyatt's worn ones contrasting with Donald's (previously) black and shined shoes. "I'm a bit jealous."

"What for?"

"The last thing I said to my mother was _I don't need anyone, and I don't need you!_"

"Did you have a fight?" Wyatt asked.

"You could consider it a loud verbal dispute. I've regretted it for my entire life."

"Enti- oh." Wyatt said, the conclusion dawning on him as they walked. "I see."

"It's unimportant. What _is_ important that you hurry up if you want any hot chocolate. By the way, is that a Texan accent I hear, or is the drawl imaginary?" Donald said, quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, yup. I grew up in Texas. You a football fan?"

"Me? No. You'd have to speak with Danielle about that."

"… Ya' know what? I think I'll just keep to myself for now, thanks."

They looked at each other and chuckled before Donald removed his shoes at the front door, Wyatt following his example as they continued onward discussing football and the joys of avoiding Danielle.

"DAMMIT, DONALD, HURRY UP AND MAKE THE COCOA!" Danielle shouted from the kitchen.

Donald turned and closed the wooden door behind him, his fingers flicking to the lock automatically.

He followed Wyatt to the kitchen, although he couldn't help but feel that he had forgotten something…

_Boom_. The thunder struck loudly, the rain pouring down ever harder.

"There, are you happy now?" Rukia shouted at Renji. "If you could have shut up for _five minutes_…!"

"Oh, please," Renji replied, "we both know you wouldn't be able to _handle_ five minutes of silence! You'd break it yourself!"

They stood shivering in the rain, banging on the door, waiting for someone to answer it.

"What's taking them so long to open one damned door?" Rukia asked aloud, angrily brushing her sopping wet hair out of her face.

"I don't know, I can barely see 'em through the windo- THOSE BASTARDS ARE HAVING STEAMING HOT COCOA WHILE WE'RE FREEEZING OUR ASSES OFF!"

"What? Let me see!"

"Agh! No, quit pushing, you go back to knocking!"

"YOU knock, pineapple headed lummox! I can't feel my hands!"

The two continued arguing for quite some time, until Donald noticed the ruckus outside and (in no hurry, of course,) proceeded to let them inside.

Dripping water all over his floor.

Donald decided that it was their own fault if they caught a cold, but gave them both blankets and warm drinks anyway. It would appear that the questions would be postponed for a while longer…

**Thanks for reading everyone! As always, reviews are welcome, and I hope you liked it! I should have more fan-fictiony goodness up soon.**

**Well, eventually.**


	11. Chapter 11: Well, Good Morning, I Think

**I check out other people's profiles pretty frequently, and man, I cannot tell you how much it weirds me out whenever I see my story, sitting there in their *favorites* tab. Not **_**bad**_**weird… Just weird. But enough of the chit-chat. I don't own Bleach, Sega, Wyatt, Mike Tyson's favorite sneakers, the planet of talking bananas, or a good attorney, so don't sue over anything in the list. Enjoy!**

Unbelievable.

Danielle scratched her head, holding the mug of steaming coffee in her other hand.

Simply. Unbelievable. How Kon had managed to sleep through all the noise, shouting, fighting, and the storm (all while never removing that finger from his nose, mind you,) Danielle would never know. She shrugged to herself, and took another sip, careful to lightly blow it before allowing the hot liquid to flow past her lips.

She'd begun to respect that kind of dedication to absent-minded napping. Heroic, almost.

She stalked back into the kitchen where Rukia and Donald sat at the table, Donald relentlessly drilling her with questions about her predicament, from Soul Society to the operational physics of spirit particles. Some abstract, some very detailed, all of Donald's questions she meticulously answered, quietly enough not to wake those still sleeping. It was no wonder Donald was questioning her so thoroughly, though. Considering the fact that Danielle was pretty sure her brother was an atheist the previous week…

She absentmindedly scratched her chin, never taking her eyes off the two. Donald spoke animatedly, even when Rukia pulled out a notebook and marker to demonstrate. It brought a small smile to Danielle's face to see Donald deadpan at what she guessed were supposed to be 'cute' bunny figures describing the situations. He looked torn between remaining silent and nodding, and pointing out her artistic (dis)ability at the risk of being pinned to the wall once more.

Come to think of it, Rukia was one of the few people who had _ever_ been able to pin Donald to a wall. It wasn't that nobody tried; Donald had a tendency of speaking his mind a little too often when he felt that it would improve the situation. It's just that Donald apparently had issues with hitting girls.

Donald has morals. Huh. She'd never thought of that. Come to think of it, she didn't think of thinking often.

Come to think of it, she didn't think of come to think of it often, either.

It was then that Danielle decided that she'd had four too many cups of coffee, attempted to shut down that one part of her brain that refused to cease spewing nonsense, and continued allowing her gaze to wander.

Kon was _still _sleeping, believe it or not. It just seemed impossible that anyone could sleep in that position for that stretch of time without so much as removing the forefinger from his nose. _Creepy._

_Got to quit thinking about Kon sticking things in Ichigo's nose hole._

…

_Snkkkpppft._

_Nose hole._

She spotted Renji sitting complacently by the window, staring out at the lake-like puddles leftover from the storm. Since Wyatt was still cuddled up in that worn red sleeping bag Donald had brought up from the basement, she decided not to wake him, and instead headed in Renji's direction.

Renji would have much rather been off somewhere training.

Or sparring with someone. Hell, even Captain Zaraki Kenpachi.

Anything had to be less dangerous than that disturbing gleam in the eye of the girl walking steadily toward him.

Renji immediately regretted his decision to sit by the window with no easy way out, and momentarily considered leaping out the window.

(WPOV)

"Wyatt…."

"Wha- Whoo-zere?" I mumble groggily.

I remember getting the crap kicked out of me. Something about flower… After getting knocked around that much, you'd think I'd be hurting more.

Oh, yeah! I remember, as it all floods back to me. I had some hot cocoa while the raven haired Japanese girl in the school uniform patched me up. Something about kee… Key? Key-dough? Knead dough? Play dough? I dunno.

Yeah, that was it. _Kido._ Using the glowy green light to heal me. Now, I've taken some beatings before, and I can dish 'em out pretty hard, too. Meaning I'm a pretty fast healer.

But when she said 'healing', I didn't think she meant _'healing'_. It looks like I'm not the only one here with kickass abilities, huh?

Speaking of 'here'…

I must be asleep, because I'm no longer in those twin's living room. I'm in that weird dream place that Blaze and I sometimes go to. Normally, I see something like scenery, some trees, a couple of hills overlooking a horizon. Nice place. Good for a vacation, seaside property, just sign here! Heh.

Blaze tried to explain it to me before, about how it's a place where only we can go, the 'epitome of our collective subconscious', or some metaphysic-y thing like that. It's the place where we go if we're both asleep at the same time.

It's the place where our minds are perfectly linked together, one is two and two are one, that kind of thing. It's pretty much one of the main reasons we can understand each other so well, is because we know each other like the backs of our hands. It's the place where the conscious and the subconscious collide, the dream world.

Like I said, it's a nice place.

…Well, it used to be.

Instead of seeing Blaze running up to meet me, or teleporting out of nowhere like she has a tendency of doing (sometimes just to catch me off guard,) I'm alone.

Instead of the colorful fields, the hills, and plant life, I am greeted with… well, some kind of _stench_, I guess. If you can really smell when you're asleep. It's like somebody's been boiling matches, skunk, and rotten eggs. Everything is dark here.

Not like there's a lack of light, or anything; I can see just fine. It's just like everything's starting to blacken, warp and rot.

Now, I consider myself a pretty tough person. When the going gets tough, I KICK SOME ASS. But this?

This place is just _freaky_. Seriously, I think I just saw one of those logs sprout eyestalks. With _mouths._ And then it flew.

Freakin' flew.

I swear, whatever was in that hot chocolate, I am NEVER drinking it again.

"Wyatt…"

"Gah!" I yell, yanking my foot back from the darkened, slightly springy ground. Seriously, if this is what our minds look like, then in all likelihood, I'm somehow channeling Charles Manson and Willy Wonka simultaneously!

"Who's there?" I shout, expecting my voice to echo back to me from the wide expanses, no longer open and friendly. Instead, it's like my voice is being muffled, like the air is trying to choke me. I've had nightmares before. A lot of times, Blaze would carefully shift her mind to link with my own, to pull me out. I'd done the same for her, before.

I'd never felt quite so… _alone_, I guess. It just made it creepier.

"Wyatt… Where are you?"

"Wait…" I ask, trying unsuccessfully to push of the smothering atmosphere. "Blaze? Is that you?"

"Yes! _Finally!_" I hear her reply, but I can't see her. "Quick, before you vanish again! Where _are_ you?" she asks.

"What do you mean, before _ I_ vanish? I'm in some fucked up fantasy world made as a play-place for Satan's babies! Where are you?"

I hear a pause before she answers, like she's waiting for me to continue. "I'm still at the castle. I've been trying to locate you for over twenty-four hours."

It's at that point that I start forgetting why I was angry at her in the first place. I mean, sure, we fight, a lot of times over stupid things. As a matter of fact, when I left, she was _still_ royally (no pun intended) pissed that I'd accidentally gotten the police on my tail (pun intended). Speaking of which, it seems that I'm still in my human body, even though I'm in the dream world. Or nightmare world. Whatever. Disregarding that, at first I can't believe that she'd go nearly two days without sleep looking for me. Immediately after that, I realize that she really would, because I'd do _the exact same thing_ if she had been the one to go missing without any explanation.

I sigh, the guilt washing over me in a wave. I wonder if our emotions are even connected here…

"Blaze… I'm s-"

"Wyatt… I'm s-"

We realize what we're trying to say, at the same time. I guess we really aren't totally separated. I voice said opinion to Blaze.

"You know, Wyatt…"

"Are you about to try to apologize and say I'm an idiot at the same time?"

"But you're _my_ idiot."

"Love you too."

We're quiet for a moment after that, just sort of an awkward silence. Well, it might have been awkward for Blaze. The silence in this place is _fucking creepy._

"Hey. Blaze. Do you know where I am?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah!" I can practically hear her facepalming. So much for single minded determination.

"I'm not quite sure where you're at, but I've been there as well. It seems like it happens to this place whenever we're discordant, our minds aren't perfectly synchronized."

"… Uh… English, please?"

I can practically hear that other facepalm, but I kind of doubt that this one is exasperation at herself.

"I mean, whenever one of the guardians are unharmonious, wistful, unhappy or experiencing some other kind of negative emotion without a second guardian to counteract it, the dream world ends up like this."

"Wait, you mean _I_ did all this?"

"Well, Wyatt, technically, no… I mean, we did fight an awful lot… and with you vanishing, I suppose that the seed of discontent was all this place needed to bloom into the hideous blossom it is now."

"Urrgh. Please, don't mention flowers."

"Why not?"

"I'd really rather not talk about it."

"…Ooo-kay."

"… Hey, Blaze."

"Yeah, Wyatt?"

"Uh…. Exactly _what_ happens to a guardian if their… 'dream world', or whatever, goes completely rotten?" I ask the empty air.

"I don't really know. I haven't found any records of anything like that happening to previous guardians. Well, it _has_ happened, but they always reconciled before anything serious could happen. But, Wyatt? I'm afraid of what will happen if it totally decays."

"Just how bad will it be?"

"Wyatt. It's _inside your head._"

"… Oh. I'm guessing it's not the kind of 'it's all in your head!' cliché, is it?"

"….Please, Wyatt."

"What? Don't do that!" I'm starting to get freaked out again. It feels like this place is closing in on me, even though I'm out in the middle of… well, _somewhere_.

"Come back safe."

I hear her whisper, like it was just caught on the breeze before vanishing.

The edges of my vision begin to go black.

And then, the whole world collapses.

"So you see, it's only considered kinky if you use the _whole turkey_-"

At this point, Renji had backed himself as far away from Danielle as he possibly could, which just so happened to be against the window. His flaming red hair stood out against the rest of the window. To any passersby, it would appear that a pineapple were being waved about for no particular reason.

Renji's eyes were wide with terror, his face pale. He looked ready to vomit at any moment. Thankfully for him, the sound of someone walking downstairs alerted Donald.

"Danielle, just what are you speaking to Renji about over there?"

"…Uh… nothing."

"Weren't you just talking to him?"

"…No."

"So, you're telling me that you've been sitting over there _staring_ at him for the past twenty minutes."

"Don't be silly, we were talking, of course."

"… Danielle, sometimes I just don't know why I bother."

Ichigo stomped barefoot into the kitchen, the sword still on his back, swinging slightly. His eyes were barely open as he stumbled into the kitchen, not even registering the fact that there were other people around him.

"Uh… Ichigo?" Rukia began, looking worriedly at her comrade. He may have been healed, but he still looked like… well, like he'd spent all night sleeping on the floor.

Ichigo merely moaned in a zombie-like manner, reached for the coffee pot, and poured some of the nearly boiling liquid into a nearby mug.

"Er…"

"ICHIGO NEED COFFEE."

"Right. You see to that." Rukia said, turning back to Donald to continue their conversation.

Danielle, apparently growing bored of tormenting Renji, skipped over to the barely conscious Ichigo as he struggled to grasp where he was and how he got there.

Danielle had practiced messing with people. She quite enjoyed it.

"So," she asked, just as Ichigo began to take another gulp of the coffee, "does the carpet match the drapes?"

Ichigo immediately choked on his coffee, burning himself while he was at it.

Danielle could only spout out a strangled _Snkkkpppft_.

"DANIELLE!" Donald sputtered. "LANGUAGE AROUND GUESTS, YOUNG LADY!"

"…I'm still older than you, so nyah." she hastily replied, sticking out her tongue.

Poor Ichigo couldn't seem to feel his. Rukia simply sat red faced at the table, unsure of what to say.

Technically, Renji didn't even move throughout the whole ordeal.

Must have been shellshock. Poor guy.

Everyone turned at the stomping noise coming from the stairs, which just turned out to be Grimmjow, who had somehow managed to swipe a pair of Donald's (too small) pajamas. Considering the fact that Donald was quite a bit shorter than Grimmjow, anyway, Danielle wasn't quite sure why he'd steal the pajamas, anyway.

"Are… are those my silk pajamas?" Donald asked Grimmjow as the Espada scratched at the hollow mask on his face sleepily.

"Mmm… maybe. The old ones itched like _fuck_. Also, they had some blood on 'em… Okay, a lot of blood. I left 'em on your bed for ya. You're welcome."

A slight twitch began in Donald's left eye.

"…You… you left filthy… _bloody_ clothing…. On. On. On my bed?"

"Pfftsh. Yeah. What, you thought _I_ was gonna clean 'em, twitchy?" Grimmjow answered, reaching for coffee as well.

'Twitchy' had developed quite the twitch. As in, said twitch had nearly consumed the entire left side of his face. Partially a nervous reaction. Also in part due to the overwhelming rage.

But mostly nervous reaction.

I think.

"Hey," Danielle asked, quickly trying to change the subject, "Grimmjow. Does the carpet match the drapes?" she asked, struggling to hold in her giggles.

"Yeah, but not the upholstery."

"Snkkkppft- wait, what?"

Believe it or not, Ichigo actually managed to choke on his coffee over this one, too. Plus, Rukia turned a shade of red previously thought to be exclusive only to tomatoes.

"DAMMIT, DANIELLE, LANGUAGE AROUND GUESTS!"

**Thanks for reading, everyone. Reviews are always welcome, but more importantly, I hope you enjoyed it.**

…

**Nah, I'm lying. I'm really only in it for the reviews.**

**For reals. No, seriously. Uh, dude. **


	12. Chapter 12: Getting In A Stranger's Van

**Hey hey, guys and gals, welcome back and thanks for reading! I don't have much experience writing song-fics. Mostly due to the fact that I hate them.**

**With a passion.**

**However, I will admit, they are sometimes tolerable, and, occasionally, freakin' awesome if used with proper timing. Hopefully, I won't be cramming in any more songs after this.**

**Unless, of course, I'm just in a despicable mood and blaming you guys for it. *Insert Evil Face Here.***

**As usual, l don't own Sega, Wyatt, Bleach, or a kangaroo butler.**

**Because, I mean, **_**come on**_**. ANY of those would be amazing! Or, at the very least, entertaining.**

"Another long and arduous day in the sweltering heat of the triple canopy jungle, deep in the Amazon!" Danielle quietly narrated to herself as she crept throughout the house. "The most dangerous time," she continued, barely above a whisper, "when the animals are hungry and poised to strike at wandering prey and game show hosts."

Danielle snuck around the table, doubled over and tiptoed between the chairs toward the living room, the weapon of choice snuggled tightly in her arms.

"But fortunately for me, _Dashing Danielle Dangerously,_ I have come prepared to face the jungle! Nothing can hide from my expert eyes – oh! There. _Right there._ The wild _Wyattus Felinicus Teleporticus_, a _very_ rare breed of something that I haven't made up a name for yet, prowling about like a lion on the… well, prowl. Eno- _ATTAAAAAACK!_" she screamed, bouncing up from behind the couch to whip the unsuspecting Wyatt about the head with the most dangerous weapon known to man.

The Wiffle Ball Bat.

"AAARGH! Someone help!" Wyatt shouted as he fell off the couch, wrapped up in the sleeping bags, Danielle pinning him to the ground with the bat.

"Quickly, Smithers! I thought you brought the tranquilizers!" Danielle said to the bat, tilting her head to the side and changing her accent. It sounded like a bad imitation of a middle aged Englishman, on what she hoped was an African safari. "Ker-fuff-fuff-fuff! Wot? Train-quill-eye-zeh? No, old bean, only my wits and my trusty whacky-stick! Wot wot, ker-fuffle. Ker-fuffle, I say!"

Wyatt struggled against her, trying in vain to shove her off before she strangled him with the bat. And for someone his size, and six foot three, it was proving difficult. She was barely over five feet, and he weighed nearly twice as much as she did! "WILL SOMEONE GET THIS CRAZY BITCH _OFF_ ME!" he managed to choke out, before hearing thumping from down the hall.

"What in blue blazes is going _on_ in here?" Wyatt heard a voice ask, the quiet and clipped voice of Donald echoing past.

Danielle, apparently forgetting that she was still using the (terrible) English accent, replied "Oh, my, it would appear that you caught me with my pants do-" and immediately switched back to her regular accent. "Oh, I mean, in a compromising position."

"..."

"I'm poaching!" she said proudly. "See?"

"… Danielle, sometimes I worry about you."

"IS ANYONE GOING TO HELP BEFORE I SUFFOCATE?" Wyatt croaked from underneath her.

"Sigh. Come along, Danielle. We're rather busy, and if we wish to arrive in town before _noon_ today, we should be preparing to leave. Would you be so kind as to ensure that the van is properly stocked? Unless, of course, you honestly want to go the whole way without any of your sugary garba- I mean, soft drinks."

Danielle perked up at this, and was skipping down the hall before he knew it, the Wiffle Bat bouncing off of the shoulder of her neon purple T-shirt while she hummed the tune to Gilligan's Isle.

Donald turned to Wyatt, and couldn't help but grin. Not a malicious one. (Well, not entirely.) Considering the fact that with his rumpled clothes, messy, ruffled hair, and sleep deprived eyes, Donald couldn't hold back the thought that Wyatt looked like he'd just crawled out of a train wreck.

Actually, whenever Danielle was involved, that sounded pretty accurate.

He extended a white gloved hand to Wyatt, reaching to help him up. It took him a moment more to realize that Wyatt really _did_ look awful.

"My, my. Did you even _sleep_?" Donald asked, that soft voice revealing a light hint of mockery.

But, then again, Donald usually sounded that way.

"Urrgh." Wyatt replied, stretching and rubbing his lower back. When he stood, he was over a head taller than Donald, who quietly remarked to himself that there were small scars along his arms. His hands depicted someone who fought, and often, in stark contrast to Donald's pale, spindly hands free of callouses.

Donald even felt a short burst of concern for his wellbeing, even if it was only temporary. He was still more cautious than concerned, after witnessing the little 'fire' incident the day before.

"Yeah, I'm good. You have a vehicle?" Wyatt asked, looking down at Donald while trying to change the subject. "Is it at least a _Ford_? Ford I can handle. I have an F-250 back home." He said as he brushed himself off and folded the red sleeping bag.

"I apologize. I hadn't even considered whether you could drive or not. I just assumed that you were younger that I am. Force of habit, really."

"Nah. I'm eighteen, dude."

And thusly shattering Donald's concept that he was someone else's elder for a change. But, then again, there was always Ichigo, who was at fifteen a year younger than him.

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing. I'll give directions, you drive. I don't care whether or not Danielle has a permit, I don't trust her driving. And don't let her know I said that, or she'll run me over."

Wyatt shuddered, not doubting it.

"Almost beats bein' bludgeoned by a Wiffle Bat. Where'd everybody else go, by the way?" Wyatt inquired whilst toying with the (broken) technological marvel of a teleporter-telephone in his pocket.

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"Raaagh! Stupid, perverted stuffed creep!" Ichigo shouted at a small green pill, shoving it angrily into his front pocket. "This is why you're never let out. You're a danger to us _normal_ people!" Rukia had to raise an eyebrow at the _normal_ part.

"Well," she said. "As normal as we're likely to find around _here_."

"Hey!" she heard a shout echo from the garage. "I resemble that remark!"

Danielle stalked back into the house, her arms loaded up with sugary soft drinks, snacks foods, and all assortments of unhealthy, delicious junk. Donald refused to touch any of it. And I quote, "Blergh. Danielle, all I did was _look_ at that pile of garbage. I think I now have diabetes."

"Anybody feel like teriyaki beef jerky, barbequed pork rinds, mustard-dipped spear pickles, cake flavored cotton candy-"

"Holy crap!" Ichigo exclaimed. "What are you trying to do, feed a brontosaurus?"

"Don't be silly. I was just asking if you wanted me to grab anything extra. You know, for you guys."

"What, aren't you going to share?" Rukia asked light-heartedly, thinking that Danielle was joking.

"… Er, that's a joke, right? Uh, ha ha? Yeah, I'm not splitting anything with you."

Ichigo gave her a strange look before she exited the room again. "Seriously? How can anybody have _that_ much and not be sharin'?"

Danielle didn't even turn. "I didn't _say_ it was all for me, but I suppose I could scarf it down if you really wanted me to. And don't call me Sharon."

Ichigo really didn't feel that it was fair to exclude him from all snack eating. Not that he was particularly looking forward to any 'mustard-dipped spear pickles' or anything, but it should have been Kon being blamed.

After all, how was Ichigo supposed to know that Kon would sneak off with his body and wear Danielle's favorite black skirt as a hat and dance around, singing _I'm a pretty nun?_

Speaking of which, now would be a good time to take that off.

Ichigo was sincerely comprehending the legal parameters of gikongan crushing, and whether or not it was technically considered murder or temporary insanity.

It would be easier to think if Rukia would stop giggling.

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"So, you're a Soul Reaper-"

"Uh huh."

"Who is also a hollow-"

"Uh huh."

"Who is also a cat-"

"I thought I told you _the bitch was lying?_"

Renji and Grimmjow sat on top of the roof near the weathervane, watching more storm clouds gather. The tiles were still damp, the insufficient light from the sun barely drying them. "Okay, okay! Got it."

"I was only repeating what Ms. Crazy-Ass-Fan-Girl said," Grimmjow replied, scratching lightly at his mask on the side of his face. "I dunno _why_ she thinks I'm part cat, and I don't care. And if you start talking as much as _she_ does, I'll BURY YOU IN A FUCKIN' LITTERBOX, COMPRENDE?"

Grimmjow kept whipping back and forth between calm and angry, and it was… well, a little less creepy than Danielle's manga/anime obsessions, really. He reminded Renji of a shorter, more violence prone Captain Zaraki.

Renji couldn't help but think of Captain Zaraki running along, that gleeful, death-spreading grin on his face. He imagined Grimmjow latching on to Zaraki's shoulder in Yachiru's place, clinging on with cat-like claws, yowling at the top of his lungs.

Unfortunately, Renji wasn't very could at stifling his chuckles, and instead ended up giggling like an idiot.

Believe it or not, Grimmjow was completely on board with this.

If only for the reason that he could use it as an excuse as he pushed Renji off the roof.

…

Those poor roses have really taken a beating in the last few days.

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"Head 'em up, move 'em on, head 'em up, move 'em on RAHW-HAAAIIDE!"

"When I asked you to fetch the others, Danielle, I meant _go get them,_ not stand here and spew gibberish."

"ONE LAST CALL FOR ALCOHOL, SO FINISH YOUR WHISKEY OR BEER!"

Donald sighed and plucked his cracked glasses off of his face to clean them with a small cloth. The twins stood next to a large blue Ford van, shined and cleaned. Donald thought for a moment, then asked "Do you hear something?"

Danielle replied "Tch-shyaw. Me. Bein' AWESOME."

"That's… not exactly what I meant, certainly not doubting your supposed awesomeness."

"_Supposed?_"

They were interrupted by a short scream, quickly followed by a high-pitched girlish one. Both of which were followed by a pair of dull _thumps._

"… Danielle."

"Yes, Donald?"

"Just how many people are going to fall off of my roof?"

"I'm guessing… forty-two."

Donald sighed again, and slipped outside while Danielle finished packing as many snacks as she could in the van. For some reason, he couldn't help but wonder…

He heard two thumps.

Which one of them screamed like a girl?

His thoughts were once again, interrupted, however. The moment he stepped outside, some massive surge blasted him back in with the force of a small hurricane.

A very rocking, loud hurricane.

_OH, BABY DON'T YOU KNOW I SUFFER-_

Donald struggled to lift himself up, brushing off any imaginary dust that may have accumulated over the span of four seconds.

_OH, BABY CAN'T YOU HEAR ME MOAN?_

After recovering from the initial shock, he set about discovering the source of the music, which seemed to emanate from… well, everywhere.

_YOU CAUGHT ME UNDER FALSE PRETENSES…_

As Danielle was currently preoccupied with junk food, he ruled her out as a potential disruptor of the quiet. Which only left a certain number of people capable of emitting music without any noticeable equipment.

_HOW LONG BEFORE YOU LET ME GO?_

And Donald sincerely doubted that Ichigo or the others was causing it.

_OH-WHAOH-AOH- YOU SET MY SOUL ALIGHT._

He charged out the door in a hurry, rapidly scanning the area for 'that damnable transdimensional hooligan.'

Wyatt, due to his height, was fairly easy to spot. He stood in front of the two flailing in the rose bush, grinning at their predicament.

"Dumbass! This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't pulled me off!"

"Well, then, you shouldn't have _fucking pushed me off in the first pla- OW!_ Stop kicking me!"

As the two fought with each other, the 'everywhere-music' grew progressively louder.

That throbbing headache was coming back, Donald noticed.

_SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE!_

Donald sighed, removed his glasses once more, and snapped his fingers.

The music came to a sudden halt (thanks to Wyatt, not Donald), and Grimmjow and Renji took notice at the immediate lack of noise. Wyatt, who had apparently not noticed Donald until that very moment, turned and gave him a sheepish grin.

"So, uh… hi?"

Donald took one look at the three and said, "Get in the van." And with that, turned on his heel and briskly marched back to the garage.

Donald is not a fan of Rock and Roll.

Or anything other than classical, really.

Donald was struck down once again, however, bowled over by Danielle as she sprinted out of the garage.

"Danielle, I thought you were pac- _oof!_"

"WHERE'S MUSE?" she shouted frantically, whipping her head back and forth, as if that would help her find her precious music.

Wyatt grinned and held up a hand, and flicked his finger, as if that would somehow cause music to play again.

Which, much to Donald's chagrin, was exactly what happened.

_GOIN' DOWN,_

"Oh, fantastic. Simply sublime." Donald muttered darkly, brushing the dust off of himself yet again.

_PARTY TIME,_

"You could've gone to Oxford. Or Princeton. But, no. _No_, you had to stay here and watch Danielle."

_MY FRIENDS ARE GONNA BE THERE, TOO…_

"It even comes with a built in stereo. Wonderful."

_I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL!_

"Just for the record," Donald stated with another deadpan expression. "I hate you all."

_I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL!_

Danielle was ecstatic. "This is gonna be the _greatest road trip EVER!_"

Donald merely slipped his cracked glasses back onto his face and stomped back to the van.

"I'm not sure which is more appealing. Leaving them here, or leaving them somewhere else. Knowing my luck, I'd be rid of them only to have them find their way back five minutes later." Donald grumbled to himself.

In case you hadn't figured it out yet, Donald was _not_ looking forward to the trip ahead.

**Thanks for reading, everyone. I hope you enjoyed it! And, more importantly, a special thanks to all the loyal readers who most certainly don't visit these pages only because their favorite authors haven't cracked out anything new in a while.**

**I'm… I'm **_**relevant.**_** Right, Donald?**

**Donald: "You are the source of my misery, and I hate your fans."**

**That's not very ni-**

**Donald: "If you continue speaking, you loquacious bumbling sack of author-wannabe, I swear I will KILL YOU WITH AN UNCOOKED CABBAGE."**

…**Yeah, you pretty much just ensured your own torment in the next chapter. Any ideas, folks?**

**And thanks!**


	13. Chapter 13: The Swervy Road To Arrival

**Howdy-doo, everybody! Thanks for stopping by, and you know how the story goes.**

**I don't own Bleach, Wyatt, Sega, its affiliates, **_**their**_** affiliates, an armless monkey, a tattooed cantaloupe or a Mexican giraffe fighting ring.**

**Enjoy!**

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It was a good thing that the old blue van was an eight-seater, anyway. Danielle was having a blast. Free music that was _way_ better than any old radio static, loads of snacks, and the cast of her favorite anime in the _exact same vehicle._ Not only that, but an interdimensional cat-guy time traveler! Who can throw _fire!_

Danielle was having the _time of her life_.

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Unfortunately, the old blue van was an eight-seater, which meant that nobody was going to be left behind due to space restrictions. Donald was living a nightmare. _ACDC_ blasting his eardrums out, wrappers and litter from Danielle & Co.'s junk food scattered about, and far too many people that he hated in _the exact same vehicle._ Not only that, but the hooligan from yet _another_ time and place responsible for that obnoxious music, and the very same one who lit his _kitchen_ on fire!

Donald was absolutely _miserable._

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They had only been on the road for ten minutes, and it was taking everything Donald had not to swerve off the road and leap out of the van, leaving them to fend for themselves.

"Is everyone _clear_ on the plan of action?" he asked, turning back from the steering wheel. He had initially wanted Wyatt to drive, if only to prevent Danielle from doing so. However, as it turns out, Wyatt likes moving at high speeds.

_VERY_ high speeds. Said high speeds made Donald more than a little sure that they were all going to die a fiery, one hundred and twenty mile per hour death, and decided that it would be better if Donald himself drove, with much complaining from Danielle. _Remind me to NEVER leave those two alone near any kind of mechanical equipment, _he thought to himself. _If they don't kill each other first, that is. They'd probably just forge some form of alliance, and THEN burn my house down._

"Yeah, yeah, we heard you the twelfth time." Grimmjow grumbled, kicking back in the seat. He didn't like being stuck in a vehicle. Too cramped.

"Just to reiterate," Donald stated, since Danielle (in the front passenger seat) didn't seem to be paying the least bit of attention. "Nobody leaves the group without either myself or Danielle. Nobody uses their real names except for myself and Danielle. Nobody _destroys_ anything-"

"Let me guess," Ichigo piped up in a rather bored voice, "except for you and Danielle?"

"Ha ha. Hilarious." Donald said dryly, turning on a curve as slowly as he could. It wasn't that Donald was feeling particularly cautious today, or anything. He just wished to demonstrate just how slowly he wanted the vehicle to go. More specifically, demonstrating to the previous driver.

Yeah, Donald is kind of a jerk.

It would have been much more effective, had Wyatt actually _cared_ about how fast or slow they were going. Much to Donald's dismay, Wyatt simply shrugged it off and rolled with it, as if he were accustomed to adapting to new situations. He leaned back in the seat and produced a pair of sunglasses (from nowhere, Donald would have to presume,) and grinned as he let out a satisfied sigh.

Somehow, Donald felt that even though he was driving, he just got the short end of the stick.

Danielle had her head turned so that she was looking out the window for a reason. In part, it was because she was running out of snacks, not because she was bored.

But mostly because she had realized what Wyatt was doing, and was attempting to hide her huge grin.

Hey, Donald was kind of smug. It was nice – no, _hilarious_ to see his ego punctured by someone she barely knew.

After a few more moments of relatively peaceful silence, Renji asked "So… where, exactly, are we going?"

"Well," Donald slowly articulated, "consider it this way. You are in a new world, with absolutely no supplies, the exception being Rukia with her bag of knick-knacks-"

"I have _extremely_ important and dangerous items in here, they're not _knick-knacks_!"

Donald ignored her and continued, "You have no change of clothes, and you aren't wearing mine. Mostly because they just _won't fit._ Talking to you, Grimmjow."

And, in turn, Grimmjow ignored him, scratching lightly at the bone mask on his jaw, as if trying to remember something.

"Therefore, we are going – God help me for ever uttering such a phrase – _mall shopping_."

Danielle let out a high pitched _Squee!_ and leapt across the seats, latching onto Donald's arm, who tried to shake her and cling to the wheel at the same time.

"Dyah! Let go, are you trying to run us off the road?"

"You _ass!_ You told me we were going to look for Abraham Lincoln stamps and paraph-eeh-ninni-lilly-um!"

"It's _paraphernalia, _and also, _you actually believed that_?"

"Er… no… no, I didn't. Of course not."

Rukia, in the back, thumped her head against the window.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Is there a problem?" Danielle asked.

"Yes. I have a question. Are _all_ people in this world like this?"

Donald answered as he took another turn, the large shopping center growing larger in the distance. "Fortunately, no. It just so happens that it's _your_ luck to be trapped with the ones who are."

"Yup!" Danielle agreed, "Trapped like rats in a cage! Fish in a barrel! Tigers in a circus-!"

"We get it Danielle." Donald deadpanned.

"Elephants in a hallucination! Samurai in a balloon-!"

"YES, Danielle, we get it."

"Boogers in a nose! Bananas in a basketball! Bunnies in a blender!"

At this point, Donald nearly swerved off the road again.

Not because he was shocked at what Danielle said. He'd actually begun to get used to the constant nonsense. By now, it was practically comfortable white noise.

No, Donald nearly swerved off the road because a certain raven-haired midget had launched herself like a Shinigami-missile toward the front cab of the van in order to inflict a world of hurt on a certain someone in the passenger seat, regardless of whoever was in her way or what the consequences may be. The sounds of squabbling could be heard even by passersby as the van rocked back and forth on the highway.

Danielle got away without a scratch.

Donald was kicked in the face.

Twice.

_Yep,_ Danielle thought to herself. _Today is turning out to be a pretty good day._

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(WPOV)

The crazy ones. Why do _I_ always get stuck with the crazy ones?

I check my 'phone' every few minutes, attempting to open up a portal.

Or, hell, even get some signal. I'd love to contact Blaze without having to rely on that dream-state thing.

Christ, I'd even talk to Anti-Wyatt right now. If anything, he could help me figure some of this place out. For the most part, this world seems pretty normal. Well, except for the crazy ass locals.

But technically, I haven't met anyone else from this dimension yet, so I can't judge accurately.

After checking for signal for the umpteenth time, I slip the phone back in my pocket and close my eyes, waiting for the end of the ride. I can almost _feel_ that something bad is going to happen. Not like I'm psychic or something, it's just that whenever I get bored, things get interesting pretty fast.

Weird. I rustle around a little, and try to take a nap to test it out.

When the short girl with crappy bunny drawings uses my face as a springboard to propel herself toward the front. I'm not gonna lie to you, those shoes are a _lot_ harder than they look.

Donald starts swerving all over the road, desperately trying to pull us back over in the correct lane. And throughout the whole thing, you know what the guy next to me does?

Nothing. Absolutely_ nothing._ I swear, I think that blue haired dude has brain damage.

_Or maybe _I _do from getting whacked around the head so much. Maybe I should invest in protective headgear._

I try kicking back at the human missile, only to miss and slip around in my seat looking like an idiot.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate seatbelts?

Ichigo, in the back, just scowls at everybody. The only time I saw him make any facial expression was when Donald got kicked in the face by 'accident'.

Twice.

Then again, I was laughing, too, so maybe it doesn't count.

After things have settled down and Rukia has been successfully 'restrained', we near what looks like a shopping mall.

Now, I don't really care for malls. They're full of mall rats. And if you've ever been to a mall, you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about.

These whiny, preppy, obnoxious girls with high pitched voices running all over the place, making everyone's lives miserable just from their company.

And they're _everywhere_.

Bwu-huh-huh-huh-huh. Nuh-uh. I'm seriously considering just staying here in the van.

But then again, I'd probably get bored. And with _my_ track record of what happens when I get bored, I think I'll take my chances against the rats.

I grin and rub the fingers in my right hand together. _Oh, yeah._

_Good thing rats don't like fire…._

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Grimmjow tried his best to look bored and disinterested.

To be honest, he kind of liked the scenery changes. He was just trying to remember something, _anything_, some kind of clue about his memory. Just more blanks. Well, that's not completely true.

Every now and then, whenever his eyes were closed and he'd pour all of his focus into it, he could hear something. It was like a voice of some sort, hidden behind a veil. Muffled. He would only hear it for a moment, though, and then it was gone. So, he'd decided that since people who look bored and disinterested are rarely disturbed, he did his best to look bored and disinterested.

Even when a loud, obnoxious song about ducks began blasting from the air around him.

Even when Donald began beating his head against the steering wheel in frustration.

Even when the midget launched herself like a missile from behind him.

That one was kind of tricky.

What finally seemed to shake him out of his false stupor, however, was not when the van finally clanked to a halt outside of a packed and enormous shopping mall.

It wasn't when he felt a strange buzzing pulse, similar to what he felt when he arrived in a daze.

No, what shook him out of his stupor was when a small section of the sky above the mall ripped open, and silently zipped itself back up.

Like it had never even happened.

As a matter of fact, Grimmjow wouldn't have believed his eyes, if not for two things.

Firstly, a lot of strange things had happened recently. He wouldn't doubt it if the world suddenly turned into gumdrops and spewed grape soda from the ground.

And secondly, the creature that emerged from the rift in the sky greatly resembled a primate with wings, a large bone mask in the shape of a bird covering it's face.

**Thanks for reading, everybody.**

**The next chapter will be up soon… probably.**

**Donald: Oh, for the love of – Please, I'm begging you. Don't review. It'll only encourage him.**

**Aw, come on!**

**Donald: No.**

**Do me a favor; try being **_**friendly**_**.**

**Donald: Do **_**me**_** a favor; stop breathing.**

**All right, you asked for it, buddy. You're just not going to get any spotlight in the next chapter. Hey, Danielle, do you want it?**

**Danielle: !**

**Er… 'Kay.**

**Donald: You wouldn't.**

**Obviously, you don't know me very well.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	14. Chapter 14: Like Splitting An Atom

**Hey-Diddlie-diddlie there, neighbor! Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy. Just so you know (as I'm pretty sure you do,) this, I don't own Sega, Bleach, Wyatt, any bands, talking tangelos or a Nobel Peace Prize.**

**God, I would **_**kill**_** for a Nobel Peace Prize. Any-whoo, read on. I'm pretty sure there's room for flames in the comment section, so I made sure to include some firewood and gasoline. You're welcome.**

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Danielle was having a pretty good day.

Some of her favorite anime characters had shown up, practically on her doorstep. She'd made a new friend (enemy, maybe, I'm not sure she knows the difference) who could control fire, and she had an enormous shopping mall in front of her.

Stealing Donald's wallet while he was distracted certainly helped brighten things up a bit.

She couldn't really figure out what, exactly, had happened, but Donald had seen Grimmjow glaring suspiciously up at the sky and tried to peer around to see what he was seeing, to no avail.

"What? Too blue up there for you? Or is it the clouds? It's all completely real, I assure you." Donald stated, standing next to Grimmjow with his head tilted up.

"Probably nothin'," Grimmjow lied, tearing his eyes away from the place where the _thing_, for lack of a better term, had vanished. "Why wouldn't it be real?"

"I don't know. I had assumed that you were accustomed to fabricated environments."

"What?" Grimmjow asked confusedly, scratching the back of his head.

"Probably nothing," Donald lied in return, "we should continue. We're only here because I have an urgent shipment that couldn't be delivered, and because I obviously can't leave you people alone for five minutes without the fear of my house burning down."

_That, and I have several hypothesizes I'd love to test._

Speaking of burning things down, Wyatt was ahead walking into the mall next to Danielle, still stretching out the kinks from sitting in the van. She showed him something cupped in her hands as he leaned down to take a look, and he raised an eyebrow until she muttered something Donald couldn't hear. As soon as she did so, Wyatt burst out laughing, pushing the door open with one hand to let her in first.

Donald shrugged it off (which he later regretted,) and stole a peek back to check on the other two.

Rukia managed to have gotten out just fine.

Renji, on the other hand, was quite uncomfortable.

"Augh! Let go, you're only making it worse!"

"Well," Rukia replied, "if you had just _listened_ to me instead of trying to complicate a device as simple as this, you wouldn't be _in_ this situation, now would you?"

"Just hurry the hell up and get me out of this- this- this- _demonic plague upon mankind!_"

Somehow or another, Renji had managed to get himself tangled within the seatbelts.

Not just one.

_All_ of them.

"You shouldn't have tried to use them all at once!"

"_You_ told me I had to latch them to get them to work!"

"Then _why the hell did you tie them together?_"

"BECAUSE I COULDN'T GET THEM TO LATCH IN THE DAMNED CLICKY-THINGS! AUGH! I HATE THIS PLANET!"

Renji continued to struggle, flailing about while Rukia shouted obscenities at him. Fortunately, the parking lot was empty at the time, otherwise a great number of people may have learned a few new normally indecent words in several languages.

Donald sighed in exasperation and readjusted his cracked glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hold on, I'll he- NO, DON'T CUT THEM!"

Too late, Renji had drawn his zanpakuto and slice clean through the seat belts, dropping him with a light _whumpf_ onto the ground as Rukia rolled her eyes and closed the sliding door.

_I'm pretty sure I could live with a burned down home. There's always insurance. Why did I bring them?_

Renji leaped to his feet while flipping his zanpakuto up to drop it into its scabbard, but in his haste swung a little too far.

A high pitched hissing noise emitted into the air, as if compressed air of some kind trapped in a tubular container of some kind had suddenly been released.

By a pointy object of some kind.

Grimmjow immediately cheered up. Donald, not so much.

… _I could probably get away with only one life sentence._

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The group of six stood just inside the automatic doors to the mall and looking about, letting the rush of wind from the air conditioner wash over them. Donald talked over the roar, raising his voice a bit so that they could hear him. "Now, remember the rules. Nobody leaves the group they are in, nobody goes anywhere alone, nobody lights anything on fire, nobody draws attention to themselves, nobody takes anything more than bare necessities, and nobody _steals my wallet oh why yes I am definitely speaking to you, Danielle._"

Danielle shifted uncomfortably before sheepishly handing over his worn leather wallet.

Donald often wished he were more clever.

Fairly soon, this would happen once again, when he realized that Danielle had already taken all the money out of his wallet. But that's later, not now.

"Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, we got it. Don't burn any rules and leave attention to a necessity of being bare. Let's go!" Danielle griped. She then turned on the spot, grabbed Grimmjow's hand and took off in a dash.

At least, she tried to. Grimmjow was yanked along before Donald snatched the collar of the white jacket he was wearing, pulling him back with a _hrrk!_

"Don't even think about it. We leave in groups of threes, and I'm not stupid enough to leave you alone with Grimmjow for five minutes."

"What, do you really think I can't handle myself against Grimmjow?"

"It's not _your_ safety I'm concerned for, Danielle. Grimmjow and Renji will come with me, Ichigo and Rukia will follow you. They need clothing for this world, remember? We aren't certain as to how long they'll be here, so don't go overboard."

"Yappity-yappity-yappity. YES, I got it." She grumbled, stomping off and leaving Rukia and Ichigo to follow.

Ichigo turned to Donald and asked, "Do I _have_ to go with her?"

"No," Donald replied. "If you'd like, you could go wait by the van and guard the spare tire in case Renji decides to kill it, too." He shot Renji a dark look, before turning back to Ichigo. "Of course, that means Danielle and Rukia will pick out any and all clothes you wear. And by Danielle and Rukia, I mean Danielle, because she is _ruthless_."

"How bad would that be?"

"Knowing Danielle, she'll probably have you wearing bright green plaid slacks and a blue afro wig. You know, because that would be 'normal' here. Or worse, you could end up dressed like Renji dresses himself."

Renji tried to protest before Donald cut him off. Again.

"Also, I don't care _what_ she says about her comics, manga, _whatever_. Do NOT let her force you into butt-less chaps. She does have a camera on that phone, and she _will_ use it. Her last (of many) boyfriend (victim) wound up an internet sensation (mockery). Don't be fooled too easily. I know it's difficult for you."

"It's difficult not punching you in the head, and stop patronizing me."

"At any rate," Donald continued, ignoring Ichigo, "Wyatt will go with you as protection. You don't mind, do you, Wyatt?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm. Yeah." He said distractedly, fiddling with what looked like a cracked touch-screen phone.

"There, you see? Perfectly safe. Unless, of course, she actually manages to glue you to a random stranger. Don't let that happen either. Also, if you're not good at falling long distances, try not to stand near any ledges."

"So, where do I sign the waiver?" Ichigo asked dryly.

"Here, here, and here." Donald answered, much to ichigo's surprise as he pulled a small, foldable clipboard out of his pocket.

"…It was a _joke_."

"…Right." Ichigo said slowly, backing up.

Donald sighed and readjusted his glasses. "Just make sure everyone in your group is back here in half an hour. Got it?"

"Sure." Ichigo agreed, taking off to follow the others.

Donald turned to Grimmjow and Renji, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips as the gears turned in his head. "Come along. We wouldn't want to be late for that shipment."

_Begin experiment number five in three… two… one._

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	15. Chapter 15: Boredom, He's Not Here Long

**Thanks for reading, everybody! This last chapter hasn't been updated in a while because I'm busy as f**k.**

**Also, lazy. Very lazy.**

**Any-whoo, I don't own Bleach, Sega, Wyatt, Pepsi-Cola, illegal immigration documents, exploding bananas, or a tyrannosaurus rex.**

**You know, the usual.**

**Enjoy!**

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(WPOV)

I scuff my slightly worn sneakers along the tiled floor of the mall, letting them squeak as I walk behind the rest of the group. There are people everywhere, all of them bustling around like they've got nothing better to do. I've all but given up checking and re-checking my phone, trying to get it to work.

Well, I _sort of_ got it to work.

I can play all the Tetris I want now.

Yippee.

By now, it's not so much of a 'try to get home' kind of thing as it is a 'wait to get rescued' kind of thing.

I _hate_ being rescued.

I mean, I'm practically a superhero! Why the hell should I be just moping around when I've got worlds to save? Eggman and Eggman Nega are probably lurking about right now in _my_ world, with Silver on the loose as well. Without me around, I don't know quite _what _they'll do.

On the bright side, at least I'm not being chased by cops anymore.

"HEY, YOU!" I hear from across the crowded hall.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the kid with the orange hair- Ichigo, yeah, - duck a little, trying to stay out of sight.

Meaning that he 'accidentally' had to drop the heavy bags Danielle and Rukia were making him carry.

I would have thought that was hilarious, if I hadn't seen that the 'Hey, you' guy was glaring right at me.

And, just as my luck is bound to go, the guy's a cop.

And not just _any _cop. Oh, no. Certainly not.

He's a _mall_ cop.

Great big guy, really. Short hair with squinty eyes above a bristly moustache. And get this – he speeds over to me on a _freaking Segway._

The name on the tag pinned to his lapel?

Paul.

I cannot make this shit up.

"You! Yeah, buddy. Talkin' to you."

I gesture at myself innocently (I think, I'm pretty big, too, I have a hard time looking innocent,) and cock an eyebrow. "Me? What did I do?"

The guy, Paul, tilts his head a little and gives me the evil eye. "I don't like the looks of you. You look like an awful lot like that one kid who came in here wearing nothing but a squeezy-cake frosting bag and prunes stapled to his hair. Painted all over the walls."

"I – what?" I have to admit, it threw me off a little.

"You heard me, punk. I don't know just _who_ stuffed all those rubber dog turds into the VCRs in the electronics equipment, but I smelled them. I smelled 'em _good_. And you know what?"

He leans in from atop the Segway, his eyes widening a little.

"They smelled like _prunes_."

I push him away, trying not to draw attention to myself. This guy isn't just big, he's _heavy_. I didn't actually think it would take that much effort to push him!

"Look, mister," I say, trying to be polite about it before kicking his face off and lighting his ass on fire, "I don't like prunes, and I don't like the way you're discriminating against me because of how I look. That's profiling. And profiling is _wrong_. Now go away, or I will _melt what's left of your toupee off._"

"MELT?"

The guy reels backwards and snatches up a tiny (or maybe he just had big hands,) radio mike and practically shouts into it, "SECTION FOUR SEVEN THREE BLUE! WE'VE GOT AN ARSONIST! BACK UP, I NEED BACK UP! SEND IN EVERYBODY!"

The voice from the radio responds immediately. "Even the new janitor guy?"

" SEND IN _EVERYBODY!_" He drops the mike and grins at me. "Aw, yeah. No more fire-sprees for you, punk, 'cause you're goin' _down_. Deep down. Underground down. Opposite from up down."

"…"

"…_Down._"

"Okay," I reply, carefully making sure that I flip him the bird first, "this is bullshit. So, how do you guys normally deal with people here?" I ask the rest of the group, only to turn and see that _the heartless bastards left me here!_

Sigh. "Oh, well. Guess I just have to take care of things the old fashioned way."

The guy is advancing on me now, pulling out a Taser, a police baton, and a cookie.

No idea how he managed that one.

And he's _still_ talking.

"Deep down underground down. Hipster underground. Hipster underground down. Down underground through the _molten core_ down. China down. China up, too. And some kung-pow-chicken!" and with that speeds toward me on the Segway, trying to knock me down.

Now, I admit. I have some pretty good reflexes. At least, that's what I'm convinced of.

Oh, come on, of course I have great reflexes. Saving worlds here? Duh.

So, it really shouldn't have been considered my fault as to what happened when he tried charging me.

I didn't _want_ to hurt anybody.

…Honest.

No, really.

…Mostly. Sort of. A little.

Okay, I wanted to hurt him. But just a _little_. That doesn't count. He was being annoying.

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"I'm so _bored_," Renji moaned, dragging along behind Grimmjow and Donald.

Grimmjow kept up an even pace, paying close attention to details at the numerous shops and people. He pushed a tussle of teal hair out of his face and squinted at one in the distance. Or, more specifically, the one Donald was headed toward.

Donald, for some strange reason, had insisted that they stop at multiple places at random times. He never bought anything, but he _did_ make an attempt to look interested. He had lingered a bit at the bookshop, and it was here that Grimmjow noticed that something was aloof.

Firstly, Donald only went into one of the stores if he was positive that the other two were close behind him. Secondly, he was looking at everything he could, taking as much time as possible. For someone who wanted to hurry, that seemed awfully suspicious.

And finally, no matter where he was, Donald never took his eyes off of Grimmjow or Renji.

Not once.

_It's almost like he's stalling…_ Grimmjow thought to himself, scratching absentmindedly at the mask on the side of his face.

_Got to stop doin' that. Bad habit_.

… _Fuck bad habits. Do it anyway._

"We've been walking in circles for _hours!_"

"It's only been twenty-four minutes, Renji." Donald replied, casually continuing down the hall. He kept glancing at a small metallic wrist watch, before derailed the group from the path by slipping into another shop.

"Oh, for god's sake!" Renji yelled as he saw Donald calmly striding into the next shop. This one was next to a small perfume parlor, everything painted pink. For a moment, Grimmjow thought that it was Donald's destination before he passed it, too, until he finally arrived at a small counter near the back.

Behind said counter stood a girl of about eighteen, nineteen at the most. Long blond hair was tied up in a ponytail underneath a blue cap, the green uniform shirt nearly blending in with the vomit colored walls of the place. She popped bubble after pink bubble as she stared with half-lidded eyes at some kind of magazine depicting large houses with expensive décor.

There seemed to be an assortment of objects about: everything ranging from (knockoff) artistry and (plastic) cannonballs to snow globes and potted plants.

"Excuse me, miss," Donald said quietly to the girl, standing in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back.

She proceeded to ignore him, the light _pop_…_pop…pop_ of chewing gum grating at his ears.

Donald continued as if she were actually listening.

"I just so happen to be awaiting the arrival of a package, and I was informed that the delivery was punctual. Where might I pick it up?"

Grimmjow glared at the girl as Renji ambled about, poking at this and that out of boredom. She didn't even so much as blink.

"Hey, lady. The kid's talkin' to you." He said in annoyance, the girl still not looking up from her magazine.

"It's quite alright, I don't mind the wait." Donald said calmly, totally contradicting everything he was saying before about 'get in, get out'.

Grimmjow noticed that, too, but pushed it aside to deal with the problem at hand.

_Pop… Pop… Pop_…

The sound steadily wore on Grimmjow's ears, the urge to throttle her rising rapidly.

"Listen, bitch, I'm in a fuckin' hurry!" Grimmjow shouted in her face, clenching his fists.

Her reaction?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

_Pop. Pop. Pop._

Enraged, Grimmjow snatched the magazine and flung it across the room.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, glaring angrily at Donald. "What the hell was that for?"

Donald could have apologized for Grimmjow's behavior. He could have retrieved the magazine himself. Donald could have walked away. Donald could have gotten just as angry. Donald could have done a lot of things.

Instead, Donald just stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, never moving, never flinching, that same, unwavering small smile still plastered to his face.

It was creepy as _fuck_.

Grimmjow marveled again and again at just how different the twins were from each other. Even Danielle wasn't that freaky just by _standing_. And yet, he really couldn't help but think that Donald seemed familiar, the anger that Grimmjow felt moments before fading quickly as he desperately struggled to remember. A wave of nostalgia awaited Grimmjow the more he focused on it, but it felt like something wasn't right.

He still couldn't remember. What he _did_ know is that he knew somebody like Donald. At some point, anyway. Somebody with a plastic smile and a manipulative mind.

The most he could remember is that he didn't like that person, and he was starting to like being around Donald a lot less because of it.

"I _asked_ you a _question_! What did I do to you, huh? Can't you see I'm working?" she yelled at him.

If looks could kill.

Instead, Donald said quietly, "Allow me to reiterate, as you obviously didn't hear me the first time," never taking off that fake-ass smile. "I have arrived at this location in order to obtain a parcel for which I have already made sufficient imbursement, and I would appreciate also obtaining it's whereabouts."

"What?" she asked, blinking at him.

A small twitch began in Donald's left eye. It was, for some reason, a small comfort to see some kind of human emotion. The smile never cracked, however.

"Whatever do you mean, _what_? Am I not speaking clearly enough? Have I not enunciated properly my concerns?"

She glared at him again, and said, "English, please."

This time it was Donald's turn for confusion. "What?"

"ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER: DO YOU SPEAK IT?"

"There's really no such need for such obscene and profane utterances. I merely presumed to ask a question."

"Maybe next time you should use smaller words." She replied haughtily, her head bobbing back and forth.

Grimmjow was in shock.

A person even dumber than Renji. Huh.

Donald suppressed the twitch in his left eye as he asked, "Surely you must be joking. Are you insinuating that you somehow cannot comprehend rudimentary language if it possesses more than two syllables?"

She flipped her blond hair, and said nothing. She did, however, resume bobbing her head, her lips pursed and her eyes wide.

The twitch in Donald's eye returned in full force as he took a deep breath.

"I. AM. HERE. TO. PICK. UP. AN. ORDER."

"Day-umn, why you didn' jus' say so? It be ove' in the back. JEFF!" she screeched, her voice like a fire siren.

Grimmjow could have sworn that if she were any louder, the sprinklers really _would_ have gone off.

Speaking of sprinklers, those were another strange fascination. He couldn't really remember seeing any before in… well, wherever he was before here.

"WHAT?" a voice echoed from somewhere in a back room.

"SOME DUMBASS HERE FOR A ORDER, SOMETHIN'!"

"HE GOT A RECEIPT?"

"HOW I SUPPOSED TO BE KNOWIN' IF HE AIN'T GOT NO DAMN RECIEPTS?"

Donald pinched the bridge of his nose, adjusting the cracked glasses and letting out a sigh, the fake smile _still_ glued to his face.

Albeit, much smaller and less enthusiastic.

A small package wrapped in brown paper was tossed out of the doorway, and it flew through the air until it hit the counter, bounced once, and continued sliding until it landed on the floor.

Several _clinks_ and _chinks_ were heard. It sounded to Grimmjow as if something inside were broken.

Donald flinched, and Grimmjow noticed the _Fragile_ stickers coating the box.

Again, rage flooded Grimmjow as he witnessed an obvious injustice. Nobody should be allowed to treat somebody like that! Or be that stupid!

"_Or wear clashing colors!_" Grimmjow shouted, making Donald jump. The girl was still ignoring Grimmjow, however.

Donald gave him a strange look before turning back to counter girl.

"Thank you _so _much for the delivery." Donald stated through clenched teeth, the sarcasm practically oozing out of him.

"Yo' welcome." She said, back to filing her nails in place of drooling at magazines.

Renji, seeing the box, picked it up and held it out to Donald. "Dude, this yours? I think you broke it."

The counter girl looked up from her nails to see if Donald was still there.

He was. In fact, he was _still holding on to that damned fake smile,_ but there was something different.

This time, Donald was just standing there.

And so was the box.

Floating.

_In mid-air._

The girl cocked her head to the side, blinked a few times, and rubbed her eyes.

"… The _fuck_ did I drink this time? Shit, was it nail polish remover again? I bet it was, wasn't it."

Donald deftly grabbed the package and walked swiftly out the doorway, the other two in tow.

Grimmjow turned in time to see counter girl dumping what looked like the contents of a flask into a waste bin.

He sped up to the other two, Donald going in yet another random direction.

_Experiment number eight- well, not exactly as I had hoped, but a success, nonetheless._

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And, where exactly, were Danielle, Ichigo and Rukia this whole time, you might ask?

"OH, GOD, I CAN'T CARRY ANY MORE!"

"Aw, stop whining." Rukia replied absentmindedly, flicking quickly through a large assortment of colored shirts.

"Yeah, Ichigo, you act like you're dying. Heh heh. Soul reaper. Dying." Danielle added as she tossed yet another box chock full of articles of clothing on top of the massive pile Ichigo was already bearing.

"I THINK MY SPINE JUST SNAPPED!"

Ichigo was saved, however, when something very large, blobby, and on fire burst through the wall. Ichigo dropped every box he had and dove for cover as the massive _something _continued through two more walls.

The figure of Wyatt appeared in the first hole made, fire curling around his fists.

"AND _YOU'RE_ THE ONE THAT SMELLS LIKE PRUNES! Oh, hi, guys."

"Holy Christ on a pogo stick!" Danielle exclaimed.

"Tell me about it. He's freakin' heavy!"

"What? No, not that," she said, waving her hand at the flaming holes in the walls, "it's just that I forgot to have you try on this cute sweater vest. They're not really in season, but it'll look good on you with these plaid shorts."

"Er… no thanks." Wyatt said, slowly backing out of the new 'door'.

"PUT 'EM ON OR I'LL STRIP YOU MYSELF!"

"!" Wyatt yelped as he took off at an incredible pace.

Danielle stopped at the hole, squinting around to see if she could spot where he ran to. "Meh. He'll be back. Come on, Ichigo. Those boxes aren't goin' to pick themselves up."

"…I don't know how this day could get any worse."

It was at that point that the fire sprinklers went off, drenching them all.

"Well…. fuck."

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The creature with the bone mask whipped about the ceiling, its eyes flitting about in search of its prey.

It growled as it finally noticed the person, walking alongside another girl with raven hair. The two of them were directing a boy as if he were a pack mule. The hollow above them stifled any spiritual pressure it may have been leaking and swooped in for the kill.

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Far, far away, an upright violet cat stood in a darkened room, filled with the whirring of mechanical devices.

"I've finally found you."

**Thanks for reading, everybody!**

**Sorry that it took so long to get this chapter up; you know how it goes. Busy schedules, and all that.**

**Hope you enjoyed it anyway! **

_**Onward, to the reviews!**_

**Donald: Get off of me, I am not a horse.**

_**Ignore thine noble steed!**_

**Donald: I hate you.**

_**Onward, I say! Giddee-yup!**_

**Donald: So much.**


	16. Chapter 16: Little Voices, I'm Normal!

**THANK YOU FOR CALLING , PLEASE WAIT WHILE WE REDIRECT YOUR BROWSER.**

**Hello? Who is thi- Oh, hi, guys! Welcome back, here's another chapter, up and running! This one took a bit longer than expected. I do believe this is becoming a trend.**

**I own squat, yada yada yada.**

**But, more importantly, enjoy!**

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"… Explain it again."

"AUGH!" the rest of the group groaned at Donald.

They had all gathered together after finishing their shopping spree- well, Danielle's shopping spree- and Danielle had insisted that they all stop for something to eat because 'nobody can function on an empty stomach.'

Donald probably should have thought his reply of 'You've been eating all day, porky' through more thoroughly, and maybe he wouldn't have been boxed in the ears.

"It's really not that hard to understand," Wyatt said as he munched another of the cheese coated corn chips.

"I didn't say I didn't understand it," Donald replied, nursing his sore ear, "I said something doesn't add up. I mean, think about it for a moment. First these degenerate slobs show up-"

"Hey!"

"And then _you_ come along. Obviously, from a separate world than them, and not only that, but they had no idea how they got here. Again, _you_ knew exactly how you got here, and could probably do so again if you wished, if my guess is right. Also, they didn't just appear out of nowhere, they nearly flattened a good section of my- er, _our_ property. _You_, apparently, popped out of the living room television set, which is completely disproportionate compared to the other's reports." Donald finished, taking a bite of the nachos.

He didn't particularly like them, as they were cheap and a little stale.

But then again, Donald didn't particularly like anything, so that doesn't count much.

Wyatt pulled out his 'phone' and tapped on the cracked screen a few times, and presented it to the group. Ichigo and Grimmjow didn't seem very thrilled, but the rest of them leaned in for a closer look. Rukia was especially interested in the touch-screen functionalities. _Why don't we have these in the Seretei yet?_

"I suppose that because it suffered some form of damage on the trip, you were unable to return home?" Donald asked.

"Well, not really," Wyatt replied. "It was working just fine before, and then it started going screwy and I jumped through the portal without thinking about it."

"Wait… you… you just _jumped in_ without contemplating what could have been _very_ serious ramifications of your actions?" Donald said disbelievingly, dropping the chip on the plastic plate.

"I was in a hurry," he said defensively. "Besides, I've got people to do and things to see."

"What?"

"Things to do and people to see."

"Hey, Wyatt," Danielle said.

"Yeah?"

"I think your phone is broken."

"… You don't say. Thank you for your fantastic observational skills, Captain Obvious."

"Okay, fine!" Danielle retorted angrily, shoving the phone back at him. "Be a dick about it. If that's the case, I suppose I just won't tell you about the _obvious solution_."

Wyatt's ears perked up at _solution_, and, to his credit, immediately said "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"Somehow I doubt that, but you need a new phone."

"… My god, Donald was right. You really _are _an idiot."

"UP YOURS, KITTY!"

"Would you two _please_ settle down?" someone piped up. To everyone's surprise, it was Grimmjow who said it.

"I don't think she meant what it sounded like," Ichigo added. "Care to elabora- wait, Donald, you go around telling people that your sister is an idiot?"

"No," Donald replied, "just you people. It's pretty apparent to everyone else."

Danielle, for some strange reason, didn't seem to like this much. "… You're goin' on the list, buster."

"CAN WE JUST GET BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND?" Grimmjow shouted.

"Right, right," Danielle said quickly. "Any-whoo, you need a new phone. Why don't you just take the data you have on _your _phone and transfer it to a new one?"

The entire group was silent for a moment, and Donald blinked.

Almost audibly.

"Well, erm… damn. That might actually work." He said reproachfully before apologetically rubbing the back of his head. Danielle had noticed that Donald was developing a habit. Not rubbing his head, but admitting feeling guilt. That wasn't normally like Donald.

_Cold as crappy Kentucky cucumber cuisine._

Danielle received quite a few strange looks as she tried to stifle the giggles.

"Oh. Another thing." Donald said as he toyed with the package he had picked up earlier, sliding it back and forth across the table in front of him. "I have a question, actually."

Considering the fact that Donald rarely, if ever didn't jump to the conclusion that he already knew everything, this came as another surprise for Danielle.

_On a roll today, isn't he?_

"I was picking up the package," he said with a sour look on his face, "well, before that, really. I've come to the conclusion. Ichigo has his own body, and Rukia has a makeshift one. A _gigai_, I believe, if I remember correctly. Grimmjow and Renji do not."

"…'Kay." Danielle said, waiting for him to continue.

"People can see Rukia and Ichigo."

"…'Kay."

"People cann_ot_ see Renji or Grimmjow."

"…'Kay."

"But _we_ can?"

"Uh… hmm. You know, I hadn't really thought about that," she admitted. "I mean, with as many times as I've watched the show and reread the manga, you'd think I'd have thought of that before you. Maybe I'm slipping."

"I don't kn-"

"POTATOES!" Danielle screeched in an Irish accent.

"…What. I. I don't. Just…. What?"

"QUICKLY, SOMEONE BRING ME POTATOES AND A NINE IRON! WE'VE GOT JAPANESE THINGS TO READ!"

One of the cashiers in the little Mexican style mall restaurant gave Danielle an odd (and slightly disturbed,) look before turning away and walking into the kitchen.

"Please ignore her, sir," Donald shouted after him. "It's not really her fault. She doesn't know she's insane."

Danielle flipped her twin the bird and sat back down, scraping the chair against the floor repeatedly in an attempt to make as annoying a sound as possible before quieting down.

"Another question," Donald said, changing the subject. "As far as I know, everyone from the _Bleach_ cast speaks Japanese."

"Well, duh." Renji said. "What kind of idiot can't understand his own language?"

"You misunderstand me. You haven't _been_ speaking Japanese. You've been speaking English."

This earned odd looks by everyone around.

"The _entire_ time. Now, I'll admit, I'm no expert on transdimensional travel," Donald said, gesturing in the air in front of him. "But to my knowledge, or theory, rather, once transportation has been engaged, it would be nigh impossible to locate any group and force them to change languages mid-flight. So, either all of your minds adapted to the situation at hand by changing your language, physical appearances and optical capabilities, or…"

"Or what?" Rukia asked, leaning in over the (empty) plate.

"You never experienced any such thing."

"You mean, it's just a figment of our imagination?" she asked confusedly.

"No, I mean that I believe you were… _altered_, somehow, before your arrival here. You all awoke here with no recollection of how it happened, but Wyatt here arrived conscious, and _then_ passed out, due to pain, apparently. I'm guessing _that_ wasn't supposed to happen, either. Plus, take a look at Grimmjow."

Grimmjow, hearing his name, blinked and straightened in his seat a little. "What? What'd I do?"

"When you all arrived, none of you knew him, but in your future, he is_ one of your deadliest enemies._"

It was at this point that Donald realized his mistake, and cringed inwardly. _This is what happens when you don't plan out your conversations. You make mistakes. And that was most certainly a mistake._

It was silent around the table for a moment, before Grimmjow spoke up. "Enemy? Why? I mean, sure, you guys piss me off and you're all annoying and ugly as _fuck_, but that doesn't mean we have to be enemies… Right?" he asked.

All Ichigo could recall was the event where a sumo wrestler punched him in the head and stole his bike, before Ichigo realized that it was so improbable that it could never happen. It was about as ridiculous as watching a flaming fat guy break through walls.

The memory of the event came flooding back to him, effectively shattering the memory replacement he now comprehended as what Rukia must have hit him with during the fight with Grimmjow.

Speaking of which, Grimmjow had been virtually _indestructible_ when compared to the amount of strength Ichigo had now.

Quite frankly, Ichigo really didn't mind keeping Grimmjow on his side, regardless of how psychotic he was.

Or maybe _because_ Grimmjow was psychotic. Either or.

"Now, I may not possess a _complete_ encyclopedic knowledge of your universe," Donald stated, "but it _is_ an encyclopedic one, nonetheless. I'm moderately certain that I can only think of one person in particular with the ability to alter perception with ease and skill."

The group looked nervously between each other, excluding Grimmjow, who merely looked vaguely interested.

"I'm not directly _saying_ that it was anyone in particular," Donald continued, "but I am _implying_ that a certain someone may have sent you here deliberately, though for what purpose, I can't imagine."

Wyatt, poking disdainfully at the nachos, said "I don't even think I should be here at _all_. I mean, seriously! I don't have _anything_ to do with you nut jobs-"

"Excuse me?" Danielle blurted.

"And I can't even get back the same way! No connection, no Anti, no nada! And these nachos _suck_. I think I'm gonna be sick…" Wyatt leapt from the table and sped in what Donald could only presume was the direction of the restrooms.

Ichigo sighed, thinking wistfully of the friends and family he was supposed to be protecting. "The most important thing, next to getting home, is staying alive long enough to get there. First things first, we blurb blurb blurb blurb blurb."

Donald blinked, as no one else seemed to notice the sudden change in speech. "I'm sorry?" he said, digging at his ear.

Ichigo turned to him curiously. "I said, blurb blub blub blurb blurb –blurble blurb blurb. Are you even blurb blurb blurb blurb?"

Danielle squinted at her twin, nodding slightly. "Yeah, Donald. You've really been actblurb blurby blurb blurb blurb blurb. Blurb blurb?"

Donald's head seemed incredibly heavy for some reason, and it felt as if he couldn't quite make out what anyone was saying. _Perhaps I've been drugged?_

"Blurb blurb blurb! Blurb blurb blurb? Blurb blurb!"

Donald could see their lips moving, but it appeared as if their words (or blurbs) weren't in sync with their mouths. The heaviness in his head grew, along with a low buzzing that was eventually replaced by a deep, guttural voice that echoed inside his head.

_**We Do NoT cOnVeRsE wItH cAtTlE.**_

"I… I don't feel so well." Donald said, unable to even hear his own words. Danielle looked at him with concern, but at this point, he couldn't hear anything but the voice.

_**InSiGnIfIcAnT iNsEcTs. SoOn EnOuGh, We ShAlL pUrGe ThEsE rEpUlSiVe VeRmIn.**_

He felt an overwhelming urge to lash out at Danielle, to strike her away from him, but Donald fought it and struggled against the surges of disgust welling up inside him.

_**YoU rEsIsT nOw… SoOn. YoU wIlL sUbMiT.**_

"…ald…onald…"

_**CaRrY oN, mY vEsSeL. sOon. **_

"Dude, are you okay?"

"Donald? Answer me, Donald!"

_**SOON!**_

"What?" Donald asked, blinking himself out of his daze, pushing his new glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Don't _do_ that, Donald! I was getting freaked out!" Danielle said with a relieved sigh. "You went a little blank there for a minute."

"… I apologize for any inconvenience. I do believe that this heat is getting to me."

"Really?" Danielle asked, gently laying the back of her hand against his forehead. "Huh. You're freezing…"

"I, I…" Donald stuttered, fighting the urges that were once again welling up, "I need to go."

_**WrEtChEd, WoRtHlEsS iMbEcIlE. LiAr.**_

_Restroom… were the hell is that restroom?_

_**MoNsTeR. fReAk. AbOmInAtIoN.**_

Donald dashed along the halls, attempting to mentally shove the voice away, the old familiar itch growing even stronger than the new, homicidal urges.

_Have to get it off. Have to get if off. Have to get it off. Have to get it off. Have to get it off. Have to get it off. Have to get it off._

_**ViLe CrEtIn. YoU aRe GoInG tO sLiP, eVeNtUaLly.**_

The restroom door was finally in sight, and Donald practically dove inside, scrambling toward the sinks.

"Have to get it off, have to get if off, gotta get it off, gotta get it off, _gotta get it off-_!"

_**YoU tHiNk YoU cAn SuRvIvE wItHoUt Me?**_

"_Gotta get it off, gotta get if off, get it off, get it off, get if off!_" Donald cried desperately, struggling to pull away the white silk gloves. He fumbled until he twisted the taps enough to encourage a stream of water to leak from the faucet, and Donald poured soap up to his elbows and began scrubbing intensely.

_**YoU aRe WeAk. So VeRy, VeRy WeAk. I cOuLd KilL yOu nOw…**_

"_Gotta get it off, get it off, get it off, oh God get it off get it off get it off!_"

_**BuT i'M nOt GoInG tO. nO, i'M gOiNg To LeT yOu SufFeR. yOu NEED mE.**_

Donald scrubbed harder and harder, not even screaming the same _get it off_ over and over anymore, just clawing frantically at his hands. A small trickle of blood washed down the sink as Donald slowly stopped, his chest heaving, sweat coating his body. The voice had finally died down, and Donald reached with shaking hands toward a steadily shrinking roll of paper towels.

After a few minutes of breathing heavily, Donald lifted his head and looked at the mirror to check if anyone was in the room. Thankfully, it was empty. He splashed a bit of water on his face, and gently tugged the silk gloves back on, careful to pad the insides with some of the towels to avoid suspicion, should his hands bleed any more.

"…I'm not crazy."

Donald glared at the mirror, straightening his back and resuming his normal, hopefully superior looking stance and evened his voice out, forcing himself to say it more convincingly.

"I'm _not_ crazy. I'm not."

_**Of CoUrSe NoT, mY pReCiOuS hOsT.**_

Donald, slightly shaken, ignored it and pushed the door open before striding away to find the rest of the group.

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(WPOV)

I dash toward the restrooms that I saw earlier, my shoes squeaking along.

I don't know what was in those nachos, but it feels like my stomach is on fire!

I'm not going to go into all the details, but let's just say that those nachos came back up. And they brought friends to the white bowl party.

I eventually finish, and lean back clutching my still aching stomach.

_Urrg… Never again. This is worse than that one time I tried deep fried horseradish._

I hear the squeak of the door open, and somebody murmuring something. I don't know what causes me to do it, but I slide back, away from the door of the stall I'm in and listen.

"Have to get it off, have to get if off, gotta get it off, gotta get it off, gotta get it off-!"

The guy continues, getting more and more frantic by the minute. I hear the water running, and eventually the _get it off_s stop, until it's just whimpering. After a while, the water stops, too. I try to peek over the dark blue stall by standing on the excessively large porcelain toilet, and to my surprise, I see… Donald?

He keeps breathing heavily for a few more minutes, and I duck down quietly when I see him looking around.

"I'm not crazy…"

_Sure, you're not… I think he might be OCD, maybe._

"I'm _not_ crazy. I'm not."

I hear some kind of ripping, like he's tearing up paper towels or something, and he leaves. I breathe a sigh of relief and leap down, unlatching the stall.

I guess I was right about the whole _nut jobs_ thing, after all.

I wait about a minute, and then slip out and creep down the hall in the opposite direction of where the others were.

Not that I'm afraid to go back, or anything. Not at all.

But I _do_ need an excuse, just in case Scrubby remembers that I ran for the restroom, too.

Time to go fake an alibi.

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Grimmjow leaned back and scratched at the mask on the side of his face absentmindedly, while Ichigo picked up the remaining nacho containers.

Not like he volunteered. Danielle threatened him into it with dire warnings of more shopping to come. At the words _trying on_, _carrying_ and _sweater vests, _Ichigo was only too happy to comply.

Well, not _happy_, really. More like angrily. Which could explain why he was throwing the containers into the trash bins with such force that a small, wrinkled old woman passing him shook her head.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Hoodlums everywhere."

Renji smiled at this, partially glad that he could flip off anyone he felt like, whereas if Ichigo tried it, he'd probably get a face full of mace.

Which somehow only made it funnier. Before Renji could try to convince Ichigo that flipping the bird was like saying _Hello,_ in America (which would've only resulted in Renji getting hurt, by the way,) he was interrupted by Donald slipping back into his plastic seat, white gloved hands readjusting his spectacles.

"I hope nobody missed me."

Donald was greeted by silence, with a titled head from Danielle.

For Danielle, that could mean one of two things. One, she's expressing mild curiosity.

Two, she's just hungry again.

_Maybe both…_

"It… It was a joke."

_Oh_'s and _Ah_'s went around, and Donald deadpanned for the hundredth time that day.

Donald thought for a moment, before a dark look came over him. "Has anyone seen Wyatt?"

Right on cue, Wyatt came up behind him, out of breath.

"Aw, man, those nachos were _nasty!_" he said quickly. _"_Anyway, I found some phone stuff, and I think I can get it to work now!"

"Really?" Donald asked, interested. "Teleportation technology. I really must discover the necessary components…" he added, picking up his package with one hand.

"Err.." Wyatt said uncertainly, "I'm not sure I'm allowed to do that."

"Whaddya mean?" Danielle asked curiously, brushing her black hair out of her face.

"Well, I'm kind of supposed to _not_ interfere."

"Interfere?" It was Rukia who asked this time, leaning around the others to look at the phone.

Suddenly, a loud, obnoxious ringing noise emitted from the phone, before an image of what looked like a red cat burst onto the screen.

"Flippin' fiery fuck feathers, _there_ you are!" it said animatedly, a look of glee flitting across its face.

"Anti?" Wyatt asked. "How did-"

"No time!" the one named Anti interrupted. "I wanted to find you first, but Blaze beat me to it. I'd have thought Nicole would find you first, really."

_Anti? Blaze? Nicole?_ Danielle thought to herself. _Why do they sound familiar?_

"You would not _believe_ how obsessed your crazy ass girlfriend is with finding you." A loud _I can HEAR you! _echoed behind the cat, and it rubbed the back of its head nervously. "But seriously. Even Sonic went looking for you. Well, sort of. He mostly just lounged around and ran away when Blaze lit his ass on fire. Funny as hell."

_Sonic?_ Danielle pondered. _As in, the hedgeho- oh, no way. No. Freakin'. WAY._

"_EEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!_" a high pitched squeal wailed as Danielle latched onto Wyatt's back.

"Agh! Get off!"

"OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! You never told me you were from the Sega-verse! I _love_ Sonic! He's one of my favorite characters _ever!_ He's just so _cool_, with the speed and the shoes and the blue! Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"Hrrrk." The 'hrrrk', of course, due to the fact that Danielle's arms were latched rather tightly around Wyatt's neck.

"Uh…" the cat named Anti said mischievously. "Maybe I'll just tell her you found a _new_ girlfriend."

"HE FOUND A NEW _WHAT_?"

All communications with the phone were immediately shut off, and everyone fell silent for a moment.

Even Danielle.

"If you don't get off of me," Wyatt said, choking out his words, "I am going to suffer a fate worse than _death_."

"Le gasp!" Danielle said from atop him. "Trapped on a Disney Land ride?"

"_Worse_. Death because of miscommunication." Wyatt said angrily, ready to wrap his fingers around Anti's throat.

"How is that worse?" Ichigo asked him.

"Because I'll be on _fire._"

"…Ah."

"Well, I suppose that just about wraps up today's work!" Donald said suddenly with _far_ too much false enthusiasm. "Let's head back to the van, shall we? I'll bet the tire's been fixed by now, and _look at the time!_ My goodness, it's already one o' clock. Come along, everyone, we wouldn't want to hit a nasty patch of traffic, now would we?"

Grimmjow noticed that the fake-ass smile was plastered on his face again, meaning that he was trying to hide something, or was at least in a hurry because of something he didn't want anyone else to know about.

_Maybe I'm reading into it too much…_ Grimmjow thought.

"And I'll tell you what. I know you just had nachos, but _who wants ice cream?_ We can get it to go, chocolate, sprinkles, the whole shebang!"

_And pigeons will fly out of my pants. DEFINITLELY suspicious._

Grimmjow sincerely doubted that Donald would want ice cream anywhere _near_ the old vehicle, considering the fact that he'd probably be terrified of spills.

Which meant that he was getting desperate.

The low buzzing that Grimmjow had felt when he'd seen the masked creature had returned, but he couldn't see anything around. From the looks of it, Ichigo, Renji, and Rukia could feel it, too. It didn't take them long to put two and two together to realize that Donald obviously knew what was happening (or about to happen) and was trying to rush them out of the mall.

"With vanilla and Neapolitan and marshmallows?" Danielle asked ecstatically.

"Absolutely!" Donald replied quickly. "But we really should hurry, or they'll be closed before we can get there!"

"Oka-! Wait. Why would the ice cream joint close at one?" Danielle asked.

"Err…" Donald stuttered, caught in his lie. "Be- because. It's a one day special. Everything's… half off?"

"EW MAI GAWD, HURREH, DONALD, HURREH!"

And with that, began shoving him with as much force as she could muster toward the exit.

Rukia motioned for Ichigo to grab the bags and packages. He groaned, but complied anyway. A small victorious smile appeared on Donald's face, triumph in sight.

And, as things are wont to go when Donald seems to be having a stroke of good luck, a roar echoed overhead.

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**And wouldn't you know it, the mysterious hollow has to wait until the next chapter!**

**Donald: … You're a real piece of work, you know that?**

**Why, thank you!**

**Donald: That wasn't a compliment. If you keep making them wait, they're going to end up rioting. And I flat out **_**refuse**_** to pull a pitchfork out of your ass.**

**Pfft. Fine, then. Have it your way. I just thought you should know that Wyatt leaves in the next chapter.**

**Donald: GOD, FINALLY!**

**Danielle: Donald, that's not nice! I kind of likes mai kitteh.**

**Donald: … No. Just… no.**

**Any-whoo, on to the reviews!**

**Donald: For the love of God, no more reviews. Half of them are **_**yours**_**, anyway!**

**Thhbbbt. Meanie.**


	17. Chapter 17: Misunderstanding, Mall Brawl

**Howdy-doo, everybody! Thanks for stopping by once again, for our latest installment of **_**Barrels:**_

_**Chock Full o' Awesome**_**.**

**You know how it goes; I don't own Sega, Bleach, Wyatt, or anything interesting.**

**Well, I have this one nasty old hairball that kind of looks like George Washington if you squint and look at it from the side, but that's about it.**

**Enjoy!**

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(WPOV)

A loud roar echoes overhead, although nobody else in the mall seems to hear anything. The short girl, Rukia, pops what looks like a little pill into her mouth, and a second later HOLY SHIT THERE ARE TWO OF THEM!

"Get out of sight, and stay down!" one Rukia says to the other one. The one with the uniform dashes away to hide, while the new one in black robes pulls a white sword out of a sheath on her hip.

I swear, when that one left to hide, it was bouncing instead of running. Some kind of song about hopping?

Meh.

Grimmjow and Renji both leap back, with Grimmjow bringing his fists up like he's some kind of professional boxer, while Renji whips his sword out and runs his hand over it. At first, I think he's going to cut himself, but instead he shouts "_Roar, Zabimaru!_" and the WHOLE FREAKIN' THING TRANSFORMS. Like some type of fucked up supernatural chainsaw.

I've got to admit, _that_ was kind of cool.

Then again, these guys are Japanese, apparently. "I was kind of expecting a giant robot," I mutter, low enough that he can't hear me.

Ichigo doesn't have any super-pills, no sword, no _squat_. Orange head over there doesn't have any kind of weapon on him, except for some little badge that he whips out and slaps on his chest.

_Oh, dear god. Please don't let it be a Power Ranger._

Ichigo falls _out_ of his body, and leaves it lying limply over the table, still sitting in the chair. To passersby, it must look like he just fell asleep.

That, or he just died of a heart attack.

Ichigo has black robes like Renji and Rukia, and pulls this massive freakin' _cleaver_ off of his back. It's black and white, no handle on this one. He brings it down in front of him, steadying it.

_Holy Christ, that thing must weigh a ton!_

In all the commotion, I'm too busy watching the others to check out the source of the roaring.

You know, what with all the interdimensional travelers lately, you'd think that the bastards could have taken two minutes of their time to warn me about the damned hollows.

This thing isn't just big, it's _huge_. He makes Mall Paul look _tiny_. Hell, he makes _everything_ look tiny in comparison. It's like some kind of giant hairless white monkey with a bone white bird mask on its face, with three green wings sprouting out of its back.

Seeing that everyone else has swords with 'em (excluding Grimmjow, since he didn't draw his,) I figure that I'll just do this once.

Blaze warned me again and again about doing this in public, probably for safety reasons or paranoia reasons or anything else she could think of… reasons. But I definitely think holding off a giant monster is reason enough to give it a shot.

The 'thing' circles around in the air for a second, and th- HOLY FUCK IT'S DIVING RIGHT AT ME!

I lean back as far as I can, every muscle in my body straining to get the hell away as I focus on the fire, and snap my fingers.

_Boom._ The fire _explodes _in front of me as I grip the familiar handle of the Protector's Sword, and swing with as much might as I have, leaving a blazing trail in my path.

The blade slams into the things face, and I tear off a chunk of the bone-looking mask. It takes me a second to realize that it isn't just bone-looking…

I think that thing _is_ made of bone.

I leap back and ready for another attack as Ichigo leaps over me, swinging that cleaver of his overhead.

"It's about damn time we get some action!" he shouts as he flies overhead, bringing his oversized sword down onto one of the arms of what I'm pretty damned sure is a hollow. I mean, I'm not stupid, or something. I've heard some of the others mentioning them, talking about fighting them.

They get ready for a fight with a monster; monster must be a hollow.

I just wish they'd actually given me some freakin' pointers, or _anything_ on how somebody is actually supposed to _stop_ one of these things.

You know, aside from _just hit it. Really hard._

What I'm pretty sure is the bastard child of Big Bird and King Kong roars again, upturning a few tables as it pushes forward with its hind legs, rearing up for another swipe at me. I ready myself for another attack, letting the fire well up inside me, but at the last second it swerves away and makes a beeline for Rukia. With as fast as that thing is moving, I thought for sure it'd get to her. About five feet within swiping range of its huge, hairless paws, however, that saw-blade thing of Renji's comes flying out of nowhere.

I guess I should be more specific… it wasn't so much flying out of nowhere as it was _extending_ itself, Renji remaining in the same place he was before. The large bladed end slams into the thing, knocking it off course, and WHY IS THE MIDGET STILL STANDING IN FRONT OF IT?

Grimmjow and Ichigo run up to either side of it, while Rukia starts chanting some kind of verse, or something. My best guess is that it's the kido stuff she used before, except this time there's red light glowing around her hands.

_Wouldn't want to get shown out by a bunch of strangers, would I?_

I grin and wreath the sword in flame again, and leap at it from behind.

"_EAT FLAMING STEEL, BIRD BRAIN!" _ I shout, bringing the sword down on it as hard as I can at the same time as Rukia lets him have a face full of fire, shouting "_SHAKKAHO!"_

I can almost _taste_ that victory.

You know what I get, instead?

I do something I do rarely. If EVER.

I miss. BY A _MILE_.

In my defense, I had no idea that it would pull some trick out of its sleeve, like, I don't know, _splitting itself down the middle into two different hollows._

The first one keeps most of the bird-features, while the monkey one leaps around and punches me straight in the chest. I go flying backwards, and hear something crack against the concrete walls.

I'm pretty sure it wasn't the concrete.

_SHIT, that hurt._

I struggle to get up again, a pounding on the back of my head distracting me from Tarzan-The-Ape-Not-Man charges at me, thinking it's going to finish me off.

It roars that somehow simultaneous high and low pitched scream again, its masked face gnashing at me milliseconds before its dinner is rudely interrupted by my dear friend, Mister Sharp n' Pointy.

"You can- hrrg- take this sword and _shove it!_" I grunt, ripping through it completely, "I ain't workin' here no more."

Normally, when you kill something, it's dead. I can handle that. I don't _like_ killing, but when push comes to shove, and shove says _Screw this,_ and shoots you in the face, I get down to the nitty-gritty. And normally, dead things resemble corpses. _Dead_ corpses, ideally. Not _disintegrate into a million tiny pieces._

I watch the hollow fade away, its scream still ringing in my ears. It looks like the others are having a little trouble with the greenish-bird thing. It launches itself off the ground, flitting about through the air, dodging their swings and Rukia's kido.

I hear some weird "WALLA-WALLA-WALLA-HRRK!"

It actually sounds a little like Danielle's battle cry…. When she was kicking my butt at foosball earlier in the arcade.

(That girl has had _way_ too much practice, because I am fucking _awesome_ at foosball.)

And, wouldn't you know it, the turkey from hell pulls out some razor-sharp claws, screams and pulls right back around toward me.

Oh, happy day.

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"_Quickly,_ Danielle, cease your pugnacious activity, we haven't much time!"

Danielle, struggling desperately against Donald's iron grip on her wrist, said "But-but-but- _hollow fight_! For _real!_ I'm missing the best action scene _in existence!_"

"Hrrg-! Can you- nng! Stop resisting me and _run already?_" Donald replied angrily, tugging as hard as he could on his sister's arm.

"Because," she retorted haughtily, "I'm your _elder_, remember? Shouldn't you be doing what _I_ say?"

"NOT WHEN IT INVOLVES SUPERNATURAL ENTITIES DEVOURING OUR IMMORTAL SOULS!"

The same little old wrinkled lady with the cane ambles around them, tutting.

"Tsk tsk tsk. No respect these days, no sirree. Hoodlums. Hoodlums everywhere."

Donald sighed, and readjusted his glasses with his free hand. "Very well. If you _want_ to die a horrible, painful, gruesome death, then _be my guest_." He released her, and gestured toward the battle in front of them. "Well? What are you waiting for? Aren't you going to dive into a fate most horrendous?" he asked sarcastically.

"… Donald?"

"That _is_ my name. I checked."

"…Smartass. I can see Grimmjow and Renji."

"And." Donald answered emotionlessly.

"I can see the hollow. No, wait, now there's two of them."

"…_And_?"

"Does that mean I have super-duper-awesome Soul Reaper powers now?"

"… Quite frankly, Danielle, I have no ide- _what the bloody hell are you doing?"_

Danielle surged forward as fast as she could, waving her arms above her head, screaming "WALLA-WALLA-WALLA-HRRK!"

The 'hrrk' resulting from Donald grasping the collar of her bedazzled pink shirt, effectively choking her into a rapid stop.

"I don't care whether you can fly through the air or stop a speeding bullet, _I am not allowing you to risk your life to test a theory!_"

"…I can stop a speeding bullet…." Danielle muttered angrily, brushing herself off.

"Once." Donald said grimly. "I'm fairly certain they've got it covered. Leave it to the professionals. That's what they get paid for. If all else fails, we'll call the Ghostbusters. Promise."

"How did a hollow even get here in the first place?" Danielle asked.

Donald thought for a moment, blinked, then uttered "… Oh dear."

"Seriously? Who says, _oh, dear?_ That's like…. _Super_ gay. Although, that does explain a lot…" she said thoughtfully, scratching her chin.

"Bite me, I'm straighter than a plank."

"And twice as hard?"

"I… what?"

"We… we were doing a joke there, right, Donald?"

"…No. Just… no."

"And don't think I don't know what you're doing, mister, distracting me from – _oh, shit, I'm missing the action!_" she said in a panic, running back towards the others.

Donald face palmed, and reluctantly followed her.

The roars of the hollow overhead echoed again and again, as one of them were quickly cut down by Wyatt. The remaining hollow swooped above the others, dodging their attacks before sweeping into a dive, this one also targeting Wyatt.

_He's just having a fantastic day, isn't he?_

_**PeRhApS yOu CoUlD lUrE tHe BoY AwAy InTo A pIt, AnD nOnE wOuLd Be ThE wIsEr.**_

_Don't tempt me. I'm not sure what you are or where you're from, but I'll deal with you later. Count on it._

_**CeRtAiNlY, mY hOsT.**_

_And stop calling me that, it's creepy._

_**YeS, mY hOsT. WhAtEvEr YoU wIsH, mY hOsT.**_

…_Are you mocking me?_

_**ObViOuSlY, mY hOsT.**_

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(BPOV)

I tap a few buttons on the mobile-teleporter, and watch as it speedily opens, giving me a clear view of another world.

_Amazing, the power of the Sol Emeralds._

"Right," I say, readying myself for the leap "make sure that this one _stays open_, understood?"

"Can do!" a short, two tailed tan fox says energetically, working energetically at the controls of a much larger machine. "I think we've finally pin-pointed the reason for all the interference, as well as why we couldn't reach Wyatt before. Incidentally, the enormous amount of energy blockage hasn't been destroyed- it's _shifting,_ somehow."

"Meaning?" I ask, turning to him before I go.

"Meaning," Tails says, "if you don't make it back in time, it's highly unlikely that you'll _ever_ come back, even if you had all the Sol Emeralds with you. There's simply too much energy cutting off the flows that the teleporters require, energy that normally has this dimension here," he said, gesturing at the open portal, "blocked off from everywhere else."

"How long can you keep it open?" I ask, my purple fur rustling nervously. _I want Wyatt back, but I can't just leave my kingdom forever… but it that's what it takes…_

"I'd say ten minutes, tops."

"…I'll be back in five."

And with that, I leap into the portal, not even mildly surprised that Wyatt has gotten himself into yet _another_ destructive scenario.

As usual, I'm not even surprised by the giant masked bird monster that comes flying right at me.

"BLAZE!"

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"HOLY HELL, WHAT IS THAT THING?" a large purple cat cried in shock, bursting out of a portal that opened just above Wyatt's head.

"BLAZE!"

"Wyatt?" she asks, turning to the human behind her.

"DOWN!" Wyatt shouts, tossing a large burst of concentrated fire in her direction just as she drops to the floor, slamming into the face of the hollow. It roared in pain, flailing about before leaping into the air again.

The purple cat pushed herself up from the ground and turns toward Wyatt. The first thing Donald noticed were the gloves and oddly large shoes. After taking a quick look around, she turned back to Wyatt and rushed at him.

"OH GOD BLAZE I SWEAR TO GOD THERE'S NOTHING BETWEEN DANIELLE AND M- OOMPH!"

Blaze slammed into Wyatt and embraced him with as much force as she could muster.

"Don't you ever leave like that again! Don't you ever, _ever_ do that again!" and immediately began smothering him in kisses.

"Hrrk-! Can't… breath!"

Grimmjow took his eyes off of the still roaring and flailing hollow for a moment to witness the new development, and grinned at Wyatt. "Aw, whaddya know," he said, "even people as ugly as him can find love. Unlike _you_ shit heads."

Renji lowered his sword for a moment, and glared at Grimmjow. "And, _what_, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that I've got a damned good nose, and you _reek_ of desperation."

"Hey!" Renji shouted. "I am _not_ desperate! Right, Rukia?" he asked angrily, turning to her.

"Hmm?" she said absentmindedly. "Oh, sure. Sure. Right. A little busy." And continued with her onslaught of fiery kido blasts.

"See? She agrees with me."

"… Holy fuck, you're almost as clueless as spike-head."

"Ignoring that!" Ichigo shouted, shoving off from the ground in a huge leap to swipe at the hollow again.

The bird-hollow moved faster and faster, swerving to and fro, the wide slices from its claws growing closer and closer to Ichigo each time it swung.

"RAGH! Will you just _die_ already?" Ichigo grunted, now mainly dodging and blocking rather than attacking. It looked like it was getting more difficult for Ichigo to fight, for some odd reason.

"**Perhaps I will… after I **_**rip your face off!**_**"**

Wyatt turned in mild shock from Blaze, still gripping her tightly. "…Holy shit, they _talk?_"

"Duh," Danielle said. "Why wouldn't they? There's a talking _cat_ in front of you, but you're distracted by a talking _hollow?_"

"Seriously, man," Grimmjow said from one of the tables, taking a seat and kicking his legs up, totally ignoring the ensuing battle. "Pay attention more often."

"NO HELP FOR ICHIGO, EH? WELL, SCREW YOU GUYS, TOO!"

"Oh, pipe down you big baby," Danielle said flippantly, "you can handl- hhhhhnnnnn."

Danielle's eye twitched, and her tongue didn't seem to be working properly.

"That's not a word, Danielle." Donald said, also leaving Ichigo to fend for himself.

Not that Donald could have done much, either way.

Or _would_ have, for that matter.

"S-ssss-so….So….!"

"What?"

The portal above Wyatt and Blaze swirled and churned, and apparently it was having a subtle and strange effect on him. Wyatt was still human… mostly.

A bright red cat's tail had emerged from behind Wyatt, with a small white stripe on the end.

Danielle continued twitching, a sliver of drool oozing out of her mouth. "Snnsnssssn ssossososossososossssooSoSo-…So!"

Afterwards, the hair on top of Wyatt's head rustled slightly;

Only to present two bright red cat ears bouncing up alertly.

"SO MOTHER-FUCKING _CUTE!_"

Danielle launched through the air and wrapped her arms around Wyatt, petting his head and crooning.

"He's just so _cute_ and _fwuffy_ and _adowabew!_ "

"Hnnk! Why- is everyone - trying - to suffocate me?"

Blaze lurched back in shock, probably from being attacked twice in so few minutes. "…Wait…" she said.

"AH GOTS MAI SMEXY KITTEH!... Also, _glomp!_" Danielle fell into a fit of giggles atop Wyatt, grip still tight around his neck.

"I _know_ you from somewh – the communicator." Blaze said in realization.

"CAN AH KEEP 'IM DONALD, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEAS-AH?"

"HANDS OFF, BITCH, HE'S _MINE_!" Blaze roared, and with that, grabbed Danielle around the throat and tossed her away like… well, like terrible nachos, really.

Wyatt doubled over, gasping for breath. More feline features were beginning to appear, but even more slowly than the last one. He snapped his fingers and allowed the golden blade to vanish into the air, and turned grinning to Blaze.

"Man, how many times are people going to try to kill me here, eh? Uh, Blaze? I… I think Ichigo has the fight handled pretty well by himse- WHY ARE YOU DRAWING YOUR SWORD?"

Blaze whipped out a golden blade of her own, and leveled it at Wyatt's neck.

"I'm only going to ask you once."

"….'Kay?" Wyatt gulped.

"And if you lie to me, I swear to God I will neuter you _on the spot_."

"….'Kay?" Wyatt gulped again, more audibly. From the look of terror on his face, you'd think he'd have preferred _fifty_ more hollows rather than a single angry Blaze.

"…Is she better than me?"

"I… wait, what?" Wyatt asked confusedly.

"_Is. She. Bet. Ter. Than. Me?_" Blaze reiterated slowly, her violet face an expressionless mask.

"Only because she's had more practice," Wyatt said indignantly, thinking back to the earlier foosball match.

"I'M GOING TO _SLAUGHTER _THAT WHORE!" Blaze shrieked, diving at Danielle.

"Hi, Bla- OH GOD, THOSE ARE MY ONLY GOOD EYES!"

By now, the entire group (excluding Ichigo) was focused on the squabble, and even the attacking hollow paused for a minute to view the carnage Blaze and Danielle were creating.

"… **Are they always like that?**"

"Don't look at me, I don't know the purple one." Ichigo said, standing in the air across from the hollow.

"**And the other?**"

"Actually, I think she's _always_ crazy, so that doesn't really count."

"… **You know, if I weren't going to devour you shortly, I'd feel a shred of pity for you**."

"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU EAT WITH NO JAW!" Ichigo yelled, swiping at the hollow again as it dodged away mockingly.

Wyatt jumped along the debris, leaping from pile to pile, over broken tables and shattered chairs. "HANG ON BLAZE, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE ASKING, THAT CAME OUT WRONG!"

"HER _INTESTINES_ ARE GOING TO COME OUT WRONG!"

Danielle ran as quickly as she could, but it didn't take Blaze long to catch up. Although she had a couple of bumps from trying to dodge rubble that Danielle had tossed backwards in order to slow her down, she was in a much better condition that Danielle, who had nicks and scratches in several places, one running diagonally across her face.

Blaze slowed down, and grinned sadistically at Danielle, a manic look on her face as she gestured with a gloved hand in front of her. "Here, kitty kitty kitty…." Blaze said in a low voice.

"!" Danielle squeaked, ducking behind the still reclining Grimmjow in one of the few remaining chairs.

"Princess Blaze, Wyatt, hurry!" a voice echoed over the mall court, carrying to them as Blaze drew up to Grimmjow threateningly. Grimmjow, totally unfazed by the entire ordeal, said "Bitch, you're crazy. Go away."

"AFTER I TEAR OUT WHORE-Y MC-WHORE-Y-SONS' THROAT!"

"Wasn't talkin' to you," Grimmjow said, peeling Danielle off his back with one hand. For some strange reason, his first instinct was to check if he still had both his arms.

"DAMMIT GRIMMJOW, SOME SMEXY-KITTEH-BODYGUARD YOU ARE!"

"Blaze, wait!" Wyatt yelled, tackling her to the ground. The two tumbled for a few moments, until a now completely red feline Wyatt had her pinned.

The downside was that he was also on fire, but at least he had her pinned.

"How… How _could_ you, Wyatt?" she asked tearfully, her violent demeanor dropping.

"Look, I'm sorry, I promise- no, I _swear_ I'll help you get better at foosball!"

"….What?"

"Is- isn't that what you meant?" Wyatt asked. "Because Danielle kicks some serious ass at foosball."

"….What the hell is a _fooz-eh-ball?_"

"…..You gotta be _shitting_ me."

"**EXCUSE ME!"** the hollow roared, "**I AM **_**TRYING**_** TO DEVOUR SOME SOULS. WOULD YOU ALL BE SO KIND AS TO **_**SHUT THE HELL UP**_** AND GET IN LINE OR SOMETHING?**"

The tan two tailed fox in the opening of the portal cocked an eyebrow at the hollow, shrugged, and said "Ignore everything he just said, we need to go, _and now!_"

Wyatt helped Blaze to her feet, and dusted her off. "You _see_? This place is _overflowing_ with miscommunication."

"Don't try to blame the environment, I can still kick your ass." Blaze said, throwing her arm over Wyatt's shoulder. "How much time do we have left, Tails?" she called out.

"Not much," Tails said, "my calculations are now null and void!"

"What? Why?" Wyatt asked.

"Didn't you notice how long your transition phase took? If you stay here, you won't just miss the portal forever, the energy flow cutting off the portal will hunt you down and _rip you molecule from molecule!_"

"Meh, been there, done that."

"And you won't be put back together!"

"Oh, shit!" Wyatt said. "That _is_ serious!"

"You _think?_" Blaze said, slapping him upside the head. "Let's move, already!"

The pair leapt up to the steadily shrinking portal, and Wyatt turned back to the group to wave goodbye.

Just before it closed, however, Wyatt turned back. "Hang on, I still have one more question…"

"What?" Ichigo asked impatiently.

"What exactly _is_ a hollow, if it dissolves when you kill it?"

"Hollows are spiritual beings," said a voice from below him, Rukia answering this time. "They aren't so much mindless beasts as they are the corruption of souls."

"Wait," Wyatt said in shock as the portal closed in front of him, "you mean to tell me that thing I killed was a _fucking person?_" before the glowing doorway slid shut silently, cutting him off. There was nothing left behind, not a single trace that he had ever existed.

You know, _aside_ from the massive trail of smoking destruction.

"**Am I going to get ANY attention over here?**" the hollow roared angrily, lurching at Ichigo again.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure." Ichigo said absentmindedly thrusting his zanpakuto before him, not even noticing that he had impaled the thing through its head, effectively disintegrating it. His eyes were locked onto the spot where Wyatt and his anthropomorphic friends had just disappeared to.

The group stood about for a moment, even Ichigo still levitating in midair.

It was Danielle who spoke first, clapping her hands together. "…So. Who's up for Dairy Queen?"

Donald sighed, readjusting his glasses and hanging his head at the same time.

"…. Fuck."

The sound of sirens indicated that it was time to leave, anyway.

Rukia and Ichigo reclaimed their bodies (well, body and _gigai,_) as they trawled along an empty path towards an exit, with Grimmjow lazily taking up the rear. Donald's eyes widened for a moment, as if he were listening to something, before he turned so quickly that his neck popped painfully.

"OW! Grimmjow, quickly- grab my package!"

"Sorry, man," he said, holding up his palms defensively, "I don't swing like Szayel. Wait, who?"

Donald face palmed, and pointed at the small brown package still sitting innocently by one of the remaining tables.

"…Oh, right. Sure."

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"Come along, then," Donald said quickly, "everyone file out in a neat and orderly fashi- I SAID NEAT AND ORDERLY!" he cried futilely as they all rushed out at once, pinning Donald against one of the glass doors.

**AwFuLly **_**InSoLeNt**_**, **_**ArE tHeY nOt, My HoSt?**_ _**WoUlD iT nOt Be EaSiEr To SiMplY KiLl ThEm NoW?**_

_No, I'd really rather not clean up the mess. Besides, I don't kill people._

_**LiAr.**_

After everyone had filed into the van (now with fixed tires, sans seatbelts,) Donald sat behind the wheel and thought pensively for a moment.

"….What?" Danielle asked across from him, taking her position in the passenger seat.

Along with a conspicuously overflowing bulging jacket, snacks spilling over the sides.

"Well," Donald said, scratching his chin and plastering on that same fake-ass smile, "I have good news, and I have bad news."

The rest leaned in, waiting for Donald to inform them.

"The _bad_ news is, I'm not certain that you may ever return home and there's a good possibility that you are all going to die horrible deaths here, and there's nothing you or I can do about it. Also, due to time relativity, all of your friends and family _may_ be dead and long gone if you ever _do_ return home safely."

The group reeled in shock, taking in the new information.

Not Grimmjow, however. Grimmjow couldn't remember anyone, either way.

"The _good_ news is, we're going to _Dairy Queen!_"

Ichigo, in shock, stared at the floor. "My – my friends. My _family_-"

"_Dairy Queen!"_

"Everyone I've ever known… could be…."

"_DAIRY QUEEN!_"

Ichigo sat silent for a moment, before stubbornly muttering "Take me to the goddamned Dairy Queen, Donald."

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**Thanks for reading, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Donald: He's lying.**

_**Shut up,**_** Donald. **

**Reviews are always welcome. If I don't know what you're thinking, how can I help to make the story better?**

**Donald: Get someone else to write it.**

…**. Up yours, Donald.**


	18. Chapter 18: Take A Call

**Woo-hoo! You came back!**

**Not… not that I didn't **_**believe**_** you would, or anything….**

**Mostly.**

**Anyway, same ol', same ol'. I don't own Bleach, Bach, Baskerville, basketball, bacon, bananas, boron, or Oprah.**

**Didn't see that last one coming, did you?**

**But seriously- that lady has enough cash to **_**buy**_** Australia.**

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"And she's like, Corduroy? Nuh-uh, it leaves a funny taste in my mouth! Hahaha ha!" Danielle said through a mouthful of Cheetos, gesturing animatedly with her hands.

"… That's _fascinating_, really Danielle, but please do me a favor."

"Yeah, Donald?"

"_Stop speaking._"

"With my mouth full?"

"Period."

"So _that's_ why you're so cranky!" Danielle said, shoveling down more chips.

"I- wait, what? Just…. I know! Let's play the _hold your breath_ game. You go first."

Danielle looked at Donald, doing her best to appear hurt. "_Sniff._ So _mean_ to poor Danielle! Right, Grimmy?" she asked, turning back to Grimmjow.

"What?" he said, whipping away from the window. "I dunno. I've been trying to ignore you."

"Grimmjow! At least I know Rukia will take my side! …. Right, Rukia?"

"Er…." Was the only reply she could get, finding that Rukia had just pulled her fingers out of her ears.

"Oh, _come on!_ SOMEBODY stand up for me, how about you, Ichigo?"

"Actually," Ichigo said guiltily, "I think you're pretty damned annoying, too."

"YOU'RE ALL _TERRIBLE_ PEOPLE! Ooh, ice cream tastes _great_ with Cheetos and pickles!" Danielle exclaimed, scarfing down a spoonful of the…. Whatever the hell it was.

Donald made a small gagging noise, and did his best not to swerve off the road and run for his life. "Honestly, Danielle, how can you _stomach_ that?" he asked, though he'd really rather not know the answer.

"Oh, easy! See, first I suppress my gag reflex-"

"Okay, stop right there."

"Oh, come _on_, it's really interesting, I promise!"

_Believe you me, interesting is the LAST thing I would call it._

"Heh heh he. No gag reflex." Grimmjow said, grinning.

"ONE WORD, GRIM-KITTY AND I'LL GIVE YOU _ANOTHER _HOLE IN YOUR BODY!"

_**PeRhApS iT cOnTaInS aN iNdEsTrUcTaBlE aCiD sAcK wItHiN iT's BoDy?**_

_My sister is to be referred to as a 'she', not 'it', and…. Actually, maybe she DOES have an acid sack. That would explain how she can eat that much and still be hungry._

The conversation between the rest of the group (excluding the snoring Renji in the very back) was slowly drowned out and replaced by the silence that had begun to take place just before the…. Well, 'voice' decided to start speaking.

_**YoU dO rEcAlL, yEs, ThAt ShE eAtS qUiTe A lArGe AmOuNt.**_

_Obviously._

_**YoU'rE mInD cOnTaInS mAnY tHiNgS, sUcH aS tHe MeMoRy Of LaRgE qUaNtItIeS oF FoOd AnD iT's DiReCt CoRrElAtIoN tO sUrGeS oF sPiRiTuAl PrEsSure, YeS?**_

…_I hadn't thought of that. Maybe being around so many other people with large amounts of spiritual pressure is affecting her more rapidly than I had feared. Wait… why would you tell me this?_

_**BeCaUsE. sHE wAsN't ThE oNlY oNe To UnDeRgO cHaNgEs, BoY.**_

… _You make a fair point._

_**Of CoUrSe I dO, **_the voice said rather smugly, fading away.

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The roar of traffic continued on for quite a while, news vans galore speeding in the opposite direction to view the scene of destruction at the local mall.

Donald had never really liked the mall. Not that there was anything wrong with the architecture itself, but he _loathed_ being around people. Swarms and swarms of people rushing about, desperate to get their hands on an item that had a small percentage off from the regular price. They reminded him of ants, scurrying around, tiny little drones. It didn't help that Donald had quite the superiority complex, and seeing so many people bustling about, so totally absorbed within themselves didn't much help his view on them.

There were times that Donald envied his elder twin. A person who could get along with pretty much anyone, was never bored, never afraid to try new things. A person who could blend in anywhere, and _still_ stand out like a sore thumb. A person who could lose herself amongst the crowd, and never fear that she wouldn't find herself again.

Yes, Donald envied her quite a bit, though he often suppressed it. He longed for her simplistic view, her impracticality and carefree attitude.

_Though I still wouldn't trade it all for my brain._

The light bulge in Donald's right pocket rattled slightly as they hit a bump, and Donald's heart skipped a beat, mind racing at the thought of anyone wondering what it was. He shifted his leg and tried to cough inconspicuously, refusing to take his eyes off the road. Fortunately, the others still seemed to be preoccupied with Danielle's seemingly endless stomach.

Rukia sat wide-eyed, mildly disturbed. "I haven't even seen _Renji _eat so much. It's just so… unnatural. But… I can't…. look… away!"

"See?" Grimmjow said angrily. "We could've made this trip a _lot_ more fun, but _no_, you didn't _want_ to get a keg! Well, who's sufferin' now?"

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The trip back was (_thankfully,_ Donald thought,) fairly uneventful, not counting the four separate times he had to stop Danielle from painting Renji yellow as he slept.

Every few minutes, Donald would glance nervously at his watch, counting down as the seconds dragged on.

_Quickly, quickly…_

As the van rolled to a halt inside the garage, the crew clambered out, Donald in the lead.

"Come along, everyone now!" he said, flinging the door open and walking briskly inside.

"What's up with him?" Ichigo asked Danielle curiously.

"Oh, he does this every time. I'm used to it by now."

"Used to what?"

"QUICKLY, QUICKLY!" Donald barked from inside the house, waiting for the group. _Tic, tock, tic, tock. _

As the group slowly filed in (Renji rubbing his eyes,) Donald grinned and shut the door behind him, eying his watch hungrily.

"Ten… nine… eight…"

"Wha-? What's up with the countdown?" Ichigo asked.

"OH, GOD, HE'S GOT A BOMB!" Rukia shouted, eyes wide with terror as she leapt behind the counter for cover.

"No, it's not a bomb. Donald buried all my explosives," Danielle said rather sadly.

"Three… two… one…" Donald continued, his using his finger as a metronome in time to the ticking.

As soon as Donald finished, the battered red telephone mounted on the wall next to him rang loudly, blaring throughout the house.

"I'll give him that much," Danielle said, "he's always punctual."

The group stood around watching as Donald held the phone close to his ear, listening. His face remained a blank mask for several minutes.

"… Whelp, time to go." Danielle said abruptly, turning and exiting the kitchen. "Who wants ice-cream?"

She attempted to move the group out of the kitchen, but failed horribly. Donald slowly placed the telephone back onto its hook, emotionless mask never lifting.

Danielle was silent for several moments, the words catching in her throat. She cleared it with a little cough, and asked "… Well?"

"It would appear that… father is…. Unable to attend tonight's dinner. There were some rather… urgent matters that he felt should be properly dealt with beforehand."

Danielle was very quiet for a few seconds, before asking "… It's the Vegas lady again, isn't it?"

_**PeRcEpTiVe LiTtLe RuNt, IsN't ShE?**_

Donald forced himself to smile (that _same_ damned plastic smile, Grimmjow noted,) as he clapped his hands together, saying "That is totally unimportant and irrelevant. Haven't we other things that should be focused on?"

"Oh, yeah!" Danielle said, slapping a hand to her forehead. "Dinner!"

"…. Please tell me that was a very poor attempt at a joke." Donald groaned.

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The steam from the kitchen wafted through the dining room, the scent of hot potato chowder permeating the house. Danielle found it simply _mouthwatering._ And speaking of things that made her mouth water, Grimmjow was perched attentively on the sofa next to Rukia, who seemed to finally be getting over her phobia (however rational) that he would punch a hole in her at any moment. The device before them sat glumly on the coffee table, it's many buttons shining back at them.

"And _I'm_ sayin' it's possessed." Grimmjow stated bluntly.

"Dammit, it's a _remote control!_ That's next to _impossible_. Besides, what would be the point in _anything_ trying to possess a remote?" Rukia asked, annoyed.

"Look, midget," he said, gesturing angrily at the remote, "it's _obviously_ just tryin' to catch us off guard!"

"WILL YOU JUST ADMIT THAT THE BATTERIES DIED, ALREADY?"

"There, you see? It's already turning us against each other! Next, it'll wait until one of us goes into the basement to start killin' us off!"

Rukia pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing her raven hair out of her face. _Why me? Why am I __**always**__ surrounded by idiots?_

Renji had gone back to sleep (the snores echoing down the hallway,) after he discovered that either the twins carried no booze (how _dare_ they!) or that it was very well hidden (how dare they _again_!) and had since given up. Ichigo stalked the area where they had arrived again and again, searching for some kind of clue or sign that would lend him a hint on the manner in which they got here.

And Danielle?

Danielle brought something back from the mall.

"THIS IS FREAKIN' AWESOME!" she exclaimed, a small remote in her hands as the buzzing of a miniature helicopter flitted about.

"Danielle," Donald asked from the kitchen, after thinking for a moment, "just _how_ did you manage to afford that? I've seen the price tags on that particular model."

"Would _you_ have gotten it for me?" she asked.

"No. Most certainly not. It is an instrument of distraction and annoyance. And you didn't answer my question."

"Oh, easy!" Danielle said happily, twisting the helicopter this way and that. "I snatched you wallet, remember?"

"I also took it back."

"Yeah, but did you check to see if I gave you any _money_ back with said wallet?" she asked rather smugly.

Donald was stunned silent for a moment, before turning back to the chowder, fuming.

…_**ThAt SqUiRrElLy, VeHeMeNt LiTtLe AbOmInAtIoN iS cLeVeRer ThAn I hAd AnTiCiPaTeD. Am I iN tHe CoRrEcT hOsT, hErE?**_

_Do you EVER shut up?_

_**I'd LoVe To SeE yOu MaKe Me.**_

_Gladly._ And with that, Donald scooped up as much concentration as he could and hurled a lump of will and anger toward the voice. To his surprise, he felt the presence recoil slightly, before drawing back up in rage.

_Hmm._ Donald thought satisfactorily,_ Looks like I'm not totally defenseless after a-gggkk!_

Donald's world went dark as he felt his spine forcing itself to bend, shoving his face into the boiling pot.

_!_

"RRYEAGH!" Donald yelped as he yanked his face out of the pot, chowder dripping from his chin.

"Everything okay in there?" Danielle asked without turning.

_NO I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY! _Donald tried to yell, only to find that he was unable to speak. He felt the presence drawing up again, except this time, it took total control of his vocals.

"Certainly. I apologize for any startling or inconveniences, but I appear to have slipped. I am fine." He said robotically.

And considering the fact that it was Donald saying it, it sounded _perfectly normal._

… _You're a dirty cheating bastard._

_**I lEaRn FrOm ThE bEsT, mY hOsT.**_

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Much to Danielle's chagrin, Donald remained in a quietly foul mood throughout the rest of the day.

She could tell because he was smiling more often.

Danielle heard him berating himself loudly (and repeatedly) for not simply sending the group of Shinigami (and Grimmjow) along with _the people using the interdimensional teleportation devices._

Donald would have mentally kicked himself, if the presence (dirty cheating bastard) hadn't been so eager to do it for him.

As to _why_ it seemed to derive such a massive amount of pleasure from watching Donald suffer was completely unkown.

If he didn't know any better, Donald would have claimed that it belonged to his twin.

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**Thanks for reading everybody. Writer's block is a b**ch. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Donald: He's lying. Again. Just look at his face!**

… **Brilliant.**

**Reviews welcome!**


	19. Chapter 19: Doesn't Matter, Had Cake

**Thanks for stopping by, everybody! I meant for this to be up **_**much**_** earlier, but little things ended up distracting me. Nothing important. You know, just EXAMS.**

**And things like that.**

**Any-whoo, you know the story. I don't own Bleach.**

**If I did, Kubo would likely find himself devoid of drug money.**

… **Oh, come on! How **_**else**_** did you think he writes this stuff? Only explanation.**

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_Clunk. _"Ow! That's my foot, moron!"

_Clang. _"Well, maybe if you'd watch your step, you wo-" _Clunk._ "Ow!"

"Would you two kindly _shut the hell up?_" Donald asked as quietly (rather irritated) as he could.

The muffled racket echoing from the kitchen slowly died down as Ichigo and Kon stopped beating the crap out of each other with kitchenware.

"He started it!" Kon whisper-yelled, jabbing a finger at Ichigo, once again in the shihakusho. Quitter frankly, Donald was amazed that he had managed to avoid knocking anything over, with that white-bandaged cleaver on his back. Kon swung a pan at Ichigo threateningly, only to have his foot stomped – yet again.

"OW! Joke's on you, jackass, 'cause you're gonna be _sore_- ow!"

A vein in Donald's temple throbbed as he turned away from them, concentrating on the task at hand.

_**We CoUlD sImPlY eRaDiCaTe ThEm…**_

_No._

_**Oh, CoMe On. ThInK oF hOw MuCh FUN yOu CoUlD bE hAvInG, wRiNgInG tHeIr LiTtLe NeCkS.**_

_No._

… _**PlEaSe?**_

_No. I refuse to clean up yet ANOTHER mess in my kitchen. Do you have any idea how long it took me to scrub the grime out from between the linoleum tiles?_

… _**ChRiSt, YoU'rE sAd. I'D hAvE fArEd BeTtEr BeInG tRaPpEd InSiDe A rAbBit.**_

…_Charismatic, aren't you?_

_**A rEtArDeD rAbBiT, iDeAlLy.**_

Donald gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore the voice. His only consolation was that to hear it, everything else was drowned out.

Which means that the unholy racket greeting him when the voice settled down again really should have been expected.

"-EFORE YOU WERE AN ITCH IN YOUR DADDY'S PANTS!"

"DON'T MAKE ME PUT YOU BACK IN THE BEAR!"

"IT'S A LION! A FUCKIN' LION!"

"_SILENCE!" _Donald roared, slamming his fist down on the wooden table. "It. Is. Four. In. The. Morning. Will. You. Kindly. _Shut. The. Fuck. Up?_"

Kon and Ichigo backed down (slightly, each with a sour expression,) before turning to Donald.

"Why do we have to be up this early, anyway?" Kon asked bitterly, thinking wistfully of those soft pillows (courtesy of Danielle) and silk sheets.

"You're the ones that got up. Now you're going to assist me."

"With what?" Kon asked.

At that, Ichigo slapped him in the back of the head.

"Ow! Why does everyone keep hitting me?"

"_SILENCE!"_

"Pay attention, dumbass. Cake batter. Mixing bowl. Frosting." Ichigo said, pointing to each ingredient.

Kon nodded, and said, "Sugar. Spice. And everything nice. Wait, why the hell are you making little girls in your kitchen?"

_Slap._

"GODDAMMIT, ICHIGO!"

Donald sighed and hefted a large black shining bowl onto the counter, seriously reconsidering recruiting the dynamic duo for help. "Just… just hand me the eggs, Kon."

"Ooh, cake!"

"… Yes. There will be testing. And then there will be cake."

"Whoo!" Kon exclaimed, lifting his (Ichigo's) arms above his head.

"_SILENCE!_"

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Danielle's nose twitched, ever so slightly.

Danielle considered herself a heavy sleeper. In truth, she was generally woken by the slightest noise, a single touch, or even light temperature changes.

However, loudly considering herself a heavy sleeper just before taking a nap just about anywhere she damn well pleased seemed like an excellent idea, and was one that had worked for quite a while. Sometimes she wouldn't even sleep, just laze about on trees, park benches, courthouse steps, stranger's roofs, the shelves in Donald's personal library (Put those _back_ on the shelves!) or anywhere else that tickled her fancy.

This morning, however, Danielle was not woken immediately. It may have been something to do with all the excitement in the past few days.

It may have been the ungodly amount of junk food (garbage liner, as Donald put it) she had ingested previously.

It might even have had something to do with the strange dream she'd been having about orange and blue.

"…Snrnsnrk. Cake with some rye!" she said groggily, leaning forward on her mat. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, wiping the sleep (and the rapidly dissolving memory of the dream) away, and looked about her room.

The red numbers on her alarm clock glared out at her, unapologetically blaring out 4:37 to her bloodshot and tender eyes.

For a moment, Danielle just sat and took everything in, listening to the slow breathing of Rukia on the bed beside her. Danielle hadn't particularly wanted to give her bed away, but, hey. Favorite anime characters here. Might as well be nice (for a while,) right? It was then that Danielle remembered the reason she was sleeping on the floor in the first place. Partially in part because she'd given her bed to Rukia.

Partially because the old emergency cot remained unlocated.

And partially because every time she tried to sneak into Grimmjow's room (Donald's, technically,) she'd either been prevented from doing so or dragged (with a _very_ pronounced pout!) back to her own room.

Well, excluding the one time Grimmjow had gotten up himself, lifted her by the back of her nightshirt (Squeeee!) and deposited her in one swift movement.

Albeit, it was down the stairs, but still. Grimmjow!

It was a little odd, she'd admitted, the way Donald was actively preventing her from bothering Grimmjow, whilst allowing her to torment Ichigo and Renji to her heart's content.

It was almost like he was trying to prevent Grimmjow from growing angry, or something.

_Weird… I swear, I'll figu- sniff._

Danielle's nose twitched yet again as she flung the covers off, bobbing and weaving throughout the air.

_Sniff. Sniff sniff sniff- is that what I think it is?_

"…Squeeee!" Danielle said excitedly, slipping downstairs as quietly as she could.

The poor bastards in the kitchen had no idea what they were in store for.

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"It's…. _it's…_" Danielle said tentatively.

"Enormous?" Ichigo asked.

"Coated in chocolate?" asked Kon.

"Supposed to be a surprise?" said Donald dryly.

"It's _beautiful!_" Danielle whispered, sniffling slightly.

The chocolate cake (which was, indeed, enormous,) was coated in a thick layer of chocolate, with bits of sprinkles sticking out in even spaces. A row of strawberries ran in a circular pattern along the top. Evenly lined whirls and patterns had been etched in with what she guessed must have been a butter knife. The lines whipped and curled, weaving about in a patchwork fashion over the entire cake, the patterns repeating over and over again, over the edges and spiraling into different letters. Each letter had been iced over in white (chocolate) frosting, and by tilting her head slightly, she could read them a little easier.

_Happy Birthday, Danielle._

It was fairly chaotic, by Donald's standards.

"_SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_" Danielle chirped, latching onto Ichigo and hugging him so tightly that he started turning blue. "It's the greatest cake since GLaDOS got hungry!"

"Hey!" Kon exclaimed, "He barely did anything! How come _I_ don't get any hugs? I'm exhausted from hard labor, here!"

"Ribs…. Cracking….. help!" Ichigo gasped, trying (in vain) to pry Danielle off of him.

Donald stood with his arms crossed, watching the three intently.

_**Do YoU sUpPoSe ShE fOrGoT aBoUt You?**_

_Nope. She's just ignoring me because she knows it annoys me. She does this every birthday. At least, since I killed her first rosebush. Besides, she always gives me the biggest slice._

_**HmM.**_

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you, guys! It's _fantastic_!" Danielle squeaked ecstatically, finally releasing Ichigo.

Ichigo turned a little red and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. "Nah, it was nothing."

"That's 'cause you barely _did_ anything, Ichigo." Kon said bluntly. "_I_ got the eggs and sugar out for the thing!"

"And thank you too, Kon." Danielle said as Donald tried to hide a small smile as he took a sip of his early morning ritual, the miracle that is coffee.

"Seriously guys, this has got to be the biggest chocolate orgasm I've ever seen!"

Donald choked on his coffee. Ichigo turned a much, much deeper shade of red than any other color Danielle had even _heard_ of before.

And Kon?

Kon just looked confused.

"….Uh. What?" he asked.

"I _love_ chocolate orgasms! They're the greatest!"

_Thunk._

Ichigo fell into a dead faint, sprawled out on the floor with his zanpakuto jutting out awkwardly beneath him.

"IT. IS. A. TRIPLE. FUDGE. CAKE. DANIELLE." Donald said, careful not to choke on his coffee again (as it seemed was also becoming routine).

"Nu-uh! I saw it on television. Television wouldn't lie to me, silly!"

"You… you were…" Kon stuttered, "watching _what_, exactly, describing orgasms?"

"The Food Network. Duh. That's _why_ I keep calling it a chocolate orgasm! Because-"

"IT. IS. A. GODDAMNED. TRIPLE. FUDGE. CAKE. DANIELLE." Donald said loudly, cutting her off.

The sound of footsteps met their ears as Rukia, adorned in the new rabbit-face covered pajamas Danielle had insisted upon, stuck her head into the kitchen.

"What the hell is all the racket for _this_ early in the morning?" she bellowed.

"Kon and Ichigo gave me an enormous orgasm!"

The entire building was silent for a moment, and absolutely no one moved.

_**Oh, ThIs Is GoInG tO bE gOod.**_

"…. Wha-?" Rukia muttered, her vocal chords no longer obeying her.

"I know they worked their hardest," she said, pointing to the unconscious Ichigo on the floor behind her, "and they're totally exhausted."

Rukia's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out, and her eyes widened.

"But it wasn't just a _two_ man job. Even Donald helped; in fact, he actually did most of the work himself!"

_Thunk._

"Wow," Danielle said in mock surprise, "they're just dropping like flies today, aren't they?"

…_**My GoD. I dO bEliEvE sHe MaY bE eVeN mOrE tWiStEd ThAn I aM.**_

_I don't think she's worried about pranks anymore. I think she might be trying to kill them._

_**ReGaRdLeSs. YoU sHoUlD pRoBaBlY gEt ThE sMeLlInG sAlTs.**_

Donald sighed inwardly as Danielle stared at Kon, grinning expectantly.

"Cut it out! You're creeping me out! What are you waiting for, an-"

_Thunk._

"Just. Like. Flies."

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**Thanks for reading everybody. Drop a few reviews, tell us what you think, and I'll cherish every comment!**

**Donald: By which he means 'wallow in the attention'.**

**Shut up, Donald.**

**Donald: By which he means, 'flame this piece of garbage'.**

**DON'T MAKE ME DELETE YOU!**

**Donald: By which he means, 'support talentless hacks because they have low self estee-' ow! Stop hitting me!**


	20. Chapter 20: Pack Your Bags, Fus Ro Now

**Hurrrg…**

**Lack of sleep is murder on my poor oxygen deprived brain. So, to distract everyone from the torment that is sleeplessness, here's some fan-fiction that hopefully doesn't suck!**

**I don't own Bleach.**

**If I did, it wouldn't be half as good or half as unnecessarily long.**

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Smelling salts and punches were administered before breakfast cake.

Well, punches were limited strictly to Kon, who insisted on playing dead (ha,) in order to convince Danielle to perform CPR.

Two things were wrong with this.

Firstly, Danielle was _very_ unpracticed in CPR.

Secondly, it was almost pathetically obvious what Kon was planning. Turns out, he's not a great actor. That, and it's _very_ difficult to play dead when you're picking your nose.

And wailing in pain.

Simultaneously.

"Augh! You jammed my finger up my nose!"

"It was already halfway there!"

Donald pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, letting out an exhausted sigh. "Danielle," he said halfheartedly, "would be so kind as to stop straddling the guests."

"NOT UNTIL I HAVE STRADDLED AND SADDLED EACH AND EVERY GUEST IN EXISTENCE! MWA-HAHAHAHA!" Danielle shouted, using one of Kon's (Ichigo's) own arms to slap him soundly around the head.

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I SURRENDER!"

"Say Uncle!" Danielle demanded.

"Uncle!"

"Say Uncle!" Danielle demanded again.

"I did!"

"That doesn't sound like Uncle!"

"UNCLE!" Kon wailed.

"WHICH ONE?" Danielle shouted back.

"Wha-? That doesn't make se- OW! Stop hitting me with _me_!"

Danielle let out a small squeak as she felt herself being lifted slowly through the air by the back of her shirt, until she spun enough in midair to see who had picked her up. The teal colored hair came into her line of sight first.

"Oh, hi, Grimmjow! Say, you wouldn't mind if I straddle you next, would 'ya?"

Grimmjow let out a low groan of mixed exasperation and disgust as he promptly dropped her on her head.

"OW! Don't make me get the riding crop, buster!"

_**I dIdN't EvEn KnOw ShE hAd A rIdInG cRoP.**_

_Neither did I,_ Donald thought to himself as he quietly sipped more coffee.

The noise continued to escalate until the entire house was abuzz with noise once again.

…_It's going to be a long day, isn't it._

_**I dOn'T sEe WhY nOt, We HaVe So MuCh PlAnNeD.**_

_Don't remind me. Are you positive this will actually work?_

_**ThErE iS a SmAlL pOsSiBiLiTy ThAt An ErRoR cOuLd OcCuR.**_

_Like how?_

_**As In 'EnD oF aLl LiFe' HoW.**_

_Ah. Now that you mention it, I think I'll double check my notes._

_**ThAt'S wHaT I tHoUgHt.**_

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Ichigo sat on the couch glumly, back in his body, while Danielle flipped through channels at random intervals. Grimmjow was spared from her (for now,) asleep as he was in the armchair, legs dropping off the side.

Click. Click. Click.

"Boring."

"Nobody asked you, Danielle." Ichigo answered grumpily.

Click.

"Boring."

"I lack the ability to give a damn, Danielle."

Click.

"I find your lack of damn disturbing."

Ichigo's eye twitched in annoyance.

_Oh, what I'd give for five minutes and a pipe wrench._

"… Boring."

… Click.

… _Three minutes. Please, that's all I ask._

"AH-_HA_!" Donald shouted, leaping up from the dining table excitedly.

Ichigo jumped at the noise, looking around to see what all the fuss was about.

"What? Ah-ha, what?"

"I'VE FINALLY DONE IT!" Donald yelled ecstatically, lifting his arms above his head in triumph.

"Done what?" Danielle asked without turning her head.

"I knew it. I _knew_ I could fix it!" Donald said, gesturing wildly with a small plastic box.

"Is that what I think it is?" Danielle asked curiously.

"That depends," Donald replied slyly. "Remember that 'phone' of Wyatt's that he had before purchasing a new one? I suspected that he'd take a faster option, like ditching it in a nearby garbage canister, and my hunch paid off." He continued, speaking more quickly as he became more excited. "I believe that I can manage to cannibalize what's left from this device in order to construct a newer, _working_ teleportation machine!"

"… Uh-huh. And… how exactly do you plan to do that?" Ichigo asked.

"It's quite simple, really," Donald replied, gesturing animatedly with his arms. "Since I've already obtained the device itself, all I require are a significant power source and a reliable method of keying into your genetic signatures, in order to locate your point of origin _before_ you interrupted my morning coffee."

"Okay," Ichigo said, "I'll bite. But how do you plan to get our genetic signatures?"

At that moment Donald pulled up a lightweight, fragile looking device with a large multi-buttoned blocky end near the handle with what appeared to be the remnants of a satellite dish on the other end. "I, er… _modified_ a Geiger counter, with which I was able to pick out large fragments of residual energy in the crash site. Afterwards, it was a simple matter of matching each signature with each individual subj- I mean, person that landed here and narrowing down potential data interference to a minimum. Simple."

Ichigo remained silent for a moment, letting it all sink in.

"So… I can go home?"

"Right now, actually."

"FINALLY!"

"Wha- but, but _Donald!_" Danielle protested, "they practically just got here!"

"Yes," he replied, "and I am quite eager to see them go. Far, far away, where I don't have to listen to them."

"… Damn, dude." Ichigo said. "That's kind of cold."

"I've got a question." Danielle said quietly, turning around from her spot on the sofa. "Tails told Wyatt that because of some kind of energy signatures that this place would be sealed off. How do you plan on getting past that?"

_**ShIt! ShE's A bIt ClEvErEr ThAn I hAd OrIgInAlLy AnTiCiPaTeD. LiE. LiE yOuR aSs OfF!**_

_Wha- why?_

_**NOW!**_

"Also simple," Donald began, that small, plastic looking smile latching onto his face. "Multiverse theory. Due to the inherent nature of constantly shifting planes of existence, only certain areas are accessible at each time. I swear, Danielle, I'm a bit disappointed. I suppose all those Marvel comic books you pore over incessantly really haven't taught you anything…"

"_What?_ How _dare_ you mock the name of all comicy-goodness! And it's way better than that DC crap, anyway!"

A vein in Donald's head throbbed, and he said quickly "Let's not get into _that_ argument again. Deal?"

"… Fine."

_**VeRy GoOd. NoW, sTrInG tHeM aLoNg.**_

"Besides," Donald continued, "I'm moderately certain that they'd all like very much to return home. How else would their storylines ever be completed?"

"Oh, my gosh! I didn't even think of that!" Danielle gasped. "What if- what if there _are no more Bleach episodes now?_"

"We probab-"

"I NEED A MINUTE!" she yelled, gasping for air and fanning her face with the remote.

Donald was silent for a moment, before continuing.

"We-"

"NEED A MINUTE!"

"… Are you finished?"

"… Almost. Er-hem. _Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin!_"

Donald sighed and readjusted his glasses before perching them back on his face. "Brass tacks, I believe that I have a method of recreating the event that brought them here in an attempt to send them back. Gather everyone together," Donald said, clapping his hands together. "It's time for a little translocation."

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**Up next, Homeward Bound! Not, uh, the movie with the talking animals.**

**Danielle: Yeah dude, I'm pretty sure they know that.**

**Who asked you?**

**Danielle: Didn't have to, you're getting my input whether you like it or not, pal.**

… **I like you about as much as I do Donald.**

**Danielle: Really?**

**Yes. Not in the slightest.**

**Danielle: I am bringing you **_**so**_** much pain in the next chapter.**

**Ignore her – I hope you enjoyed!**

**Danielle: No, he didn't.**

**Reviews are welcome!**

**Danielle: Sure, if they're flames.**

… **Shut up, Danielle.**

**Danielle: And I hope they BURN your ass!**

**Just end the f**king chapter already!**


	21. Chapter 21: GTFO

**Thanks for coming back, everybody! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been a little busy…**

**Ignoring everyone.**

**But now I'm back, with more fan-fiction-y goodness!**

**So, please. **

**Enjoy.**

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"_Hrrg!"_

"To your left, Ichigo!"

_This is ridiculous, _Ichigo thought to himself. "Hnng!"

"I meant your _other_ left!" Danielle shouted, leaning back in the lawn chair to take another sip of lemonade.

Five massive machines protruded from the ground, each around five feet in height, and were a _lot_ heavier than they looked. They had all been arranged in a circle, with all sorts of buttons and levers facing inward.

And, of course, Danielle was making Ichigo do all the work.

"Hrrnnng! Am I going to push _all_ of these around?" Ichigo yelled back in protest, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

"Yup! You just keep workin' up a sweat, Strawberry," Danielle said casually. "And don't be too shy 'bout takin' off your shirt, either."

"I'd rather light myself on fire."

"That can be arranged." Donald said as he stepped outside, his arms full of machinery. "…Wait. What are you doing?" he asked, looking about at the circle of mechanical boxes, delicate lights flashing gently.

Ichigo straightened up tenderly, stretching the stiffness out of his back. "Preparing the teleportation field."

"… What teleportation field?" Donald asked.

Ichigo looked blankly at Donald for a moment, before blinking and turning angrily to Danielle.

Danielle, of course, only smirked and sipped more lemonade.

"… I didn't really have to do any of that, did I." It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement.

"Daw, you're so cute when you're gullible."

"I am _not_ gullible!"

"Daw, you're so cute when you're angry."

"Send me home," Ichigo said turning to Donald, boiling with frustration. "NOW."

"Just a minute," Donald said gently setting several of the gauges and wires down in the clearing. "I just need to run a few more calculations. If we rush this, it could end badly."

"How badly?" Ichigo asked.

"Well, you could wind up floating for eternity in the cold, empty vacuum of space."

"… Go ahead and, uh… do whatever it is you need to do first."

"That's what I thought."

_**HaVe YoU gAtHeReD tHe PrOpEr MaTeRiAlS?**_

_Yeah, I've got everything you said. Are you CERTAIN this will work?_

_**Oh, AbSoLuTeLy. ThEy'Ll AlL bE wArPeD rIgHt OfF tHe FaCe Of ThE eArTh. LiKe ThEy NeVeR eXiStEd.**_

_See, when you start talking like that, I get decidedly nervous._

_**DoN't YoU tRuSt Me, My HoSt?**_

_You'd have to be fucking insane to trust you._

_**So SaYs ThE bOy WiTh VoIcEs In HiS hEaD.**_

"EXCUSE ME! I appear to be out of lemonade!" Danielle shouted, waving around her now empty glass, pink plastic swirly straw bouncing around inside with a _clink clink clink!_

"…And?" Donald asked, turning to his sister.

"This is the part where someone does something nice for a damsel in distress."

"I'm not getting it for you. You're a big girl – do it yourself."

"I wasn't talkin' to you," Danielle said. "Ichigo'll help a damsel in distress. Right, Ichigo?"

Ichigo paused for a moment, as if teetering between furious and confused, which only ended in a sort of odd, tilted look. "Why the _hell_ would I do that?" he asked.

"Oh, come off it," Danielle replied flippantly. "You've got a hero complex a mile wide."

"I do _not_!"

A high, shrill shriek was suddenly heard from inside the house at that moment.

"HANG ON, I'M COMING!" Ichigo yelled, dashing into the Miller residence.

Danielle's smug _I told you so_ look went fairly unnoticed.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Ichigo asked panicking. "Why are you screaming?" he asked Rukia, who was relaxing in one of the dining room chairs.

"What? I didn't scream." She said, jabbing a thumb into the living room. "It was those idiots."

Curiously, Ichigo peered around the corner into the living room, only to find Renji and Grimmjow waving their arms about, desperately jamming buttons on wireless controllers.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Why's the randomizer gone?"

"It vanished last wave, remember- FUCK! I thought you had Juggernog?"

"I DID, I DID! IT'S THE MONKEYS, THE _FUCKIN' MONKEYS!"_ Grimmjow screamed in a panic, flailing in an attempt to escape a horde of virtual zombies. The wave grew closer and closer as Grimmjow fired off shot after shot, eventually being driven into a corner.

"Hey, Grimmjow." Ichigo said quietly, gently placing a hand on top of his left shoulder.

Yet again, a high pitched shriek echoed throughout the house. The controller flew at high velocity through the air, just in time to hit Donald squarely in the face with a painful sounding _thunk!_

"Who sc- _oof!_" Donald groaned, stumbling backwards and clutching his face. A small amount of blood trickled down his wrist as he pulled his hand away, but he didn't feel any pain.

Which was odd, because taking a chunk of plastic to the face usually hurts like hell.

"Oh, shit-nipples! I mean, uh… sorry?" Grimmjow said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I, uh… got a little wrapped up. In. In the, uh…"

Donald was trembling slightly, still slightly hunched over.

"…Four."

"…Er, what?" Ichigo asked, slowly backing away from Donald.

"How many this week."

"….How many what?" Grimmjow asked. "I didn't lose to zombies yesterday," he said.

"FOUR. PAIRS. OF. GLASSES." Donald said, gritting his teeth and enunciating slowly through the nosebleed. And, indeed, the fragile pair of glasses slowly slipped off of Donald's face and landed neatly on the floor.

Albeit, in two separate pieces.

"… I said sorry."

Donald heaved for a moment, as if struggling with some deeper urge.

Regardless of whether or not that urge was to strangle Grimmjow.

"Get out of my house."

"Oh, is the teleporty – thingy wor-"

"Get. OUT."

Outside, Grimmjow nervously turned to Danielle and asked, "Ya think he's pissed?"

Daniele shifted in her seat, and asked "Was he smiling?"

"… No, I don't think so."

"Try hitting him again. That should do the trick."

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Donald sighed as he adjusted his final pair of glasses carefully on the bridge of his nose, gingerly attaching wires from the phone to his modified energy detector.

After everyone was gathered together in the clearing, Donald straightened up, clapping his hands together.

"It's nearly finished. All it requires is the energy input."

Silence greeted him as he looked around at the group of shinigami (and Grimmjow).

"Well… I suppose this is goodbye," Ichigo said, stepping forward. "It's been nice knowin' ya."

"Bullshit," Grimmjow said bluntly, stepping forward also. "You're all a bunch of wack-jobs."

"Even… even _me_?" Danielle asked, sniffling.

"Hell, '_specially_ you. Good riddance."

Danielle sweat dropped at his derision and sighed heavily.

"Do you really believe this will work?" Rukia asked Donald.

_**Oh, It'Ll WoRk, AlL rIgHt…**_

_Okay, THAT makes me nervous._

"It… it'll work…" _Probably… _he thought to himself.

_**ArE yOu CeRtAiN eVeRyThInG iS pRePaReD?**_

_I got everything together, just like you said. This had BETTER work. I don't want you stuck in my head any longer than necessary._

_**So CrUeL tO mE, mY hOsT…**_The voice replied mockingly.

"So," Renji said. "We gonna get this show on the road, or what?"

"Right," Donald said, whipping back to the device. "I'll need…"

_**ThE pOwEr InPuT, nEeD pOwEr!**_

_I can handle this myself!_

Donald shook his head, pushing his wavy mess of brown hair out of the way. "Right. _Right._ I need whoever has the highest energy signature to kickstart the machine."

Everyone in the group immediately turned to Ichigo. Excluding Ichigo, that is.

"…Me?"

"Obviously, idiot!" Rukia said, slapping him in the back of the head. "Hurry up so we can go home!"

"Ow! I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Ichigo grumbled, placing one of his palms on the teleporter cellphone.

Or, a bit simpler, the 'telephone'.

It was quiet for a moment, before Ichigo asked "… 'Kay. Now what?"

_**Oh, FoR tHe LoVe Of AlL tHiNgS oRanGe.**_ Donald felt his vocal chords shift and turn painfully, and fighting his tongue, managed to say something helpful.

Well, tried to say something helpful. It's difficult to speak when an unidentified prescence is controlling your vocal chords.

"Brgl flrg ymnng bjfs tzzts num."

"…. What?" Ichigo asked, turning to Donald.

_Let GO!_

_**YoU'rE gOiNg ToO sLoWlY!**_

"I said, maybe Grimmjow should try helping – he does have a large spiritual pressure as well, does he not?" Donald said against his will.

Grimmjow shrugged and placed his palm on the underside of the phone, before yanking his hand back with a yelp. "Ah – it zapped me!" he mumbled. "Lil' fucker," and re-placed his hand on the teleporter.

Donald struggled as hard as he could against the pull of the Voice's will, staring intently around at the group.

_Help – somebody!_

"Er, Donald?" Danielle asked. "Are… you okay?"

"Kgkkkk." He choked out, his face turning numb.

_**SiLeNcE, yOu ImBeCiLe! YoU'lL rUiN eVeRyThInG!**_

"Sorry, what?" she asked again, looking concerned.

"AKBAR!" Donald finally managed to spit out.

"That doesn't ev- OH, SHIT!" Danielle squeaked. "IT'S A TRAP!"

Renji peered at her quizzically, asking "What's a trap?"

"The phone – back away, get back, get back!"

By the time Danielle had spoken, however, it was far too late.

"What the hell?" Ichigo said, yanking his hand back, only to find it glued firmly in place by an invisible force. Grimmjow faced a similar problem on the underside of the telephone.

"Hey – leggo! My hand, _mine!_" he said angrily, yanking futilely against the pull.

A sudden, heavy field of pressure seemed to loom over the group as Danielle felt like she was slowly being smothered. A dark shadow passed over Donald's face as a twisted grin twirled its way up his face.

"**YeSsS…**"

"What's going on?" Rukia shouted, panicking while yanking back on Renji to keep him from latching onto Grimmjow and Ichigo.

"**MaNiFeSt…**"

"… Donald?" Danielle asked, disturbed. A dark gleam had begun to form in Donald's eyes.

"**I. AM. MANIFEST!**" he roared, lunging for the teleporter.

Within Donald's head, a fierce struggle was taking place.

_It's my head!_

_**AnD I oWn It!**_

_No, you don't!_

_**WeLl, I dO nOw!**_

_Out! Get OUT!_

_**MaKe Me!**_

With a heave, Donald grappled Grimmjow, shoving him as hard as he could away from the device. Grimmjow, startled by Donald, grabbed Ichigo's wrist as multiple bright yellow ribbons of electricity arced through the air.

The zapping of lighting sparked, causing many surrounding trees to catch fire, and with a final blast of blinding light, the teleporter finally worked.

Donald mentally shoved as hard as he could against the Voice in a final attempt to regain control, and with that, the world went dark.

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**Next chapter coming up soon – reviews are welcome!**


	22. Chapter 22: Lost In Translocation

**Howdy – doo, everybody! Sorry about the last chapter… I only had about half an hour to work on it. Couple that with getting sick repeatedly and projectile vomiting for a fun time. Emphasis on fun. As an apology (suck up attempt) I've made this chapter extra awesome. **

**You're welcome.**

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"… 'Kay, anyone wanna explain what the _fuck_ just happened?" Danielle spoke, brushing her hair out of her eyes while staring at the scorched earth where her brother had once stood.

Rukia shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "I'm such an idiot…" she said despairingly, looking forlornly at the newest crater.

"Did… did they _explode_?" Renji asked, a little shocked by the blast.

"That burst was kind of like the one when you guys showed up," Danielle said, thinking furiously. "… 'cept it sounded different. _Inverted_, I guess. Like somebody lit a boomerang on fire, but it was a really _big_ boomerang, and when it flew back it hit a giraffe made out of marshmallows and made a ginormous mess."

"I… don't really follow your logic," Rukia said, a little confused. "But I think I get the idea."

"And just _how_ are you an idiot?" Renji asked. "I thought that was supposed to be _my_ job."

"I should have seen this coming…" she replied sadly.

"It isn't your fault," Renji said, comforting her. "How could you have possibly known the teleporter wouldn't work?"

"Because it _did_ work…" Danielle said, furrowing her brows like Donald did whenever he was thinking.

"I can't believe I didn't figure it out before!" Rukia said angrily, clenching her fists. "It's just so obvious!"

"_What's_ obvious?" Renji asked, shaking her shoulder.

"I saw Donald's eyes at the last moment; eyes disturbingly similar to those of Kaien Shiba as he attempted to force out the hollow possessing him."

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Donald sat up, his back aching like Danielle had tried clogdancing on his spine.

Again.

"Hrrg… _ow._" And that was all he managed to say before his head exploded in pain.

_HOLY HELL!_ He thought, grabbing his temples in terror. If he didn't know any better, he'd have said someone had lit him on fire.

_**ReMaIn StIlL, mY hOsT…**_

Though the intense pain slowly faded, he refused to open his eyes, the dull throbbing in his head slowly diminishing.

_**ArE yOu StIlL iNcApAbLe Of SeNtIeNt ThOuGhT, mY hOsT?**_

_Up yours, Vee._

Donald sensed his confusion at the nickname, and answered before he (it) could respond.

_Vee. Shorter than Voice. Less confusing, too._

_**TsK tSk TsK. NaMiNg ThE vOiCeS iN yOuR hEaD iSn'T vErY hEaLtHy.**_

_Cut the crap, VEE, _Donald thought, putting emphasis on the name. It had no bearing whatsoever, but it was something to cling to while he recovered. _We both know I'm not schizophrenic._

_**WhAt AbOuT-**_

_No, not schizotypal, or schizo-paranoid, or ANYTHING. I'm sane._

…_**YoU hAvE tErRiBlE oBsEsSiVe CoMpUlSiVe DiSoRdEr-**_

_Which you only managed to aggravate in an attempt to MURDER ME!_

…_**YoU wOuLd HaVe SuRvIvEd ThE mInD cOnTrOl…**_

_Survived?_

… _**PrObAbLy.**_

Donald groaned in agitation, rubbing his still closed eyelids. Slowly cracking them open revealed little, aside from the color blue. This, of course, seemed rather odd to Donald, considering the fact that he was sitting up, not lying on his back. The wider he opened his eyes, the more blue came into his line of sight. The sky. The trees. The plants.

Everything.

"… Okay, just… 'the fuck?" Donald said, cocking an eyebrow. "I swear, if I see a _single_ tall-ass blue cat person, I am _leaving_."

Donald never really got the chance to explain just where he'd leave _to_ had a tall-ass blue cat person come anywhere near him, because he was interrupted rather rudely by Vee.

_**HaNg On To SoMeThInG?**_

_What?_

_**YoUr AsS! HaNg On To YoUr AsS, tHiS iS gOiNg To Be RoUgH!**_

_WHAT?_ Donald thought, just before the orange lighting swarmed around him, bursting out of thin air. The bursts of electricity wrapped themselves around Donald before he could move, and yanked him out of existence once more.

Donald hurled along through what appeared to be a tunnel, from what he could make of it. That is, if they still make tunnels out of impossible geometric shapes and spinning lights. I hear they're pretty old fashioned.

The pain returned in full force, and it brought it's back up crew to beat the hell out of Donald's brain.

_**I WaRnEd YoU tO sTaY sTiLl! If I dOn'T nUmB tHe PaIn NoW, yOu'Ll PaSs OuT aGaIn.**_

The intense pain from the lighting (if you could call it that) coursing through him slowly dulled, at least enough for Donald to think clearly again.

…_You… absorbed some of the shock in order to protect me?_

…_**SuRe, SoMeThInG lIkE tHaT. AlSo, YoU MAY bE mIsSiNg A cOuPlE oF bRaIn CeLlS.**_

_WHAT?_

The lighting surged again, and with a flash of orange, Donald was tossed violently against a wall, sliding slowly down it with a high pitched _squ-eeeee-eaeeeeek…. Thunk._

"Oh-wow-ow-owow-ow-" Donald groaned, picking himself up as quickly as possible. "I thought you _dulled_ the pain?" he shouted into the air.

_**I dId. AnD I StOpPeD.**_

"_Why?"_

_**YoU'rE sTiLl aLiVe, ArEn'T yOu?**_

"Ya know, it's not really healthy to keep talkin' ta yerself like that," a low, gravelly voice echoed out of the darkness.

"Who's there?" Donald yelped, leaping backwards in shock. It took Donald a moment to fully take in the new scenery, but when he did, it hit hard.

Hard wood floors. Boarded up windows and holes. Bloodstains on _everything._ Enormous Nazi flags decorating the area.

_**NoT tO mEnTiOn ThE (oBvIoUsLy MuCh BeTtEr) TeLePoRtEr In ThE mIdDlE oF tHe FloOr.**_

"Oh, fuck." Donald said.

"Ja, _oh, vuck, _indeed," a thick German accent echoed out from behind the first one. One by one, four men stalked into the hall, glaring suspiciously at Donald.

A place Donald had never expected himself to be, somewhere he was sure Danielle would be much happier.

He'd researched it after her constant nagging to discover what the fuss was about.

He only hoped that Ichigo and Grimmjow were nowhere near Kino der Toten.

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**And that's a wrap for the chap'! The next one's on the way, too!**

**Danielle: Oh, god – try again, Pinocchio. **

**What? I… I'm not lying.**

**Danielle: **_**Right. **_**And Donald doesn't use another toothbrush to clean his toothbrush after he's finished brushing his teeth.**

… **Wow, really? The things you learn about a person.**

**Danielle: Stop changing the subject!**


	23. Chapter 23: Good Guys Win, Right?

**Hi, guys! Sorry I haven't updated sooner; I've been out sick for a while. But now I'm conscious, and ready to roll!**

… **Er, type.**

… **Whatever.**

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"… Not a chance in hell…" Ichigo said in disbelief.

"I gotta be trippin' on _something,_" Grimmjow breathed, eyes wide.

"Only over your own feet – IN TERROR!" a grinning skeleton laughed, dancing around in front of them.

"This is insane." Ichigo said, grinding his palm against his head in frustration. "We're leaving."

"But where _to_?" the undead madman cackled, leaping about. "Jack Skellington knows this place like the back of his own skull, and _being_ Jack Skellington, I'm certain you're not from around here!"

The black suit he wore wrapped itself around his ghoulish form, twisting fluidly with his oddly jerky motions.

"I don't give two-and-a-half shits _where_ we go, so long as it ain't _here_!" Grimmjow roared at him, baring his teeth and clenching his fists.

Jack Skellington, totally undeterred, only giggled at him. "Ooh, look at the strange one, all tough and scary! Do you have relatives here?"

Ghosts whirled about through the air, and mist crawled along the ground like the roots of an enormous tree. If said tree were hungry, and had a tendency of whirling about unexpectedly.

"Dude, don't encourage him," Ichigo said to Grimmjow.

"Yeah, and maybe I'll tear his _face_ off and see if he's still laughin'!"

Jack only seemed to be delighted at Grimmjow's violent nature, and expressed it so. Loudly.

"Oh, it's detachable! And dismemberable, and configurable, and I can even turn it upside down!" he quipped, displaying his cranium-twisting prowess by slowly turning it one hundred and eighty degrees.

It may not have deterred Grimmjow completely, but it was enough to keep him from tearing off any faces.

"… Okay, _that's_ pretty fuckin' creepy."

"My, my," Jack replied, his head bouncing around while upside down on his shoulders, "your language is almost as foul as your breath!"

"Leggo, I just wanna kill 'im a little!"

Fortunately, Ichigo was yanking on the collar of Grimmjow's jacket the moment the orange lighting wrapped itself around them and the pair vanished it a violent flash before the empty eye sockets of Jack Skellington.

"Who _were_ they?" a quiet, stitched up woman asked, peering around a headstone.

"I dunno," Jack said, shrugging his bony shoulders. "Just a couple of weirdoes, I suppose."

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_Bang._

"Keep yer damn head down, kid!"

"You nearly took my _scalp_ off!" Donald yelped in fear, dropping to the ground with a _thud._

The screech of the undead rang around them, cold, mangled arms jamming through boarded up windows. Dirty fingernails clawed at the air in search of flesh while the five living people fended off the zombies.

Well, _four_ of them fended off zombies. Donald hated that game his sister loved so much. Donald hated the no-escape situation that no amount of planning or skill could assist with. He hated the zombies themselves.

Though perhaps his methods of displaying it weren't the greatest…

"If you wirr not defend yourserf, then perhaps you can at reast serve as distraction for zombies! Uh, rike a monkey bomb – rots of noise, but bigger mess!" Takeo said to him, blowing the face off of an incoming zombie.

"I hate this place! I hate it! I hate zombies! I –" Donald didn't finish his sentence, interrupted by Nikolai. Saving him.

Again.

"Damn, whiny boy, you are even more useless than Takeo! 'Ey, Takeo! You catch that? I call you useless! He ha! Is funny because it's true."

The crew had been running around for hours in an attempt to protect Donald, who was apparently incapable of buying weapons off of walls.

You know, like normal people.

Donald could not possibly have been more miserable.

The German found this quite amusing. Actually, Richtofen was having a _fantastic_ day. Dempsey had been nearly killed (twice), Nikolai was out of vodka, and Takeo was working twice as hard as usual.

_Didn't you say you were supposed to PROTECT your host?_

_**Ah, TrUe. BuT wHy WoUlD I dO tHaT wHeN I hAvE fOuR oThEr WiLliNg PaRtIcIpAnTs To Do ThE jOb FoR mE?**_

… _You're a twisted bastard._

"Ja, ja! Lots of little pieces for _everyvone!_" Richtofen yelled in glee as he tossed grenade after grenade into the horde of zombies.

The crew of zombie slayers slowly became more and more crowded, and eventually, Donald was cut off from the rest of the group. No matter how he tried to dodge around them, there always seemed to be another two around the next corner. And with no way to fight back, Donald's situation looked grim.

_What am I going to do, what to do?!_

_**HaVe YoU tRiEd RuNniNg AwAy? YoU aPpEaR tO bE qUiTe SkIlLeD aT tHaT.**_

_Dammit, Vee! This is a life or death crap-fest here! I need help!_

_**Oh, ReAlLy? JuSt A sHoRt WhIlE aGo, YoU cOuLdN't WaIt To Be RiD oF mE.**_

_You tried to turn me into a puppet! Besides, you said doing all that work would get you out of my head!_

_**Oh, ThAt.**_

_Well?!_

_**I LiEd.**_

_Aaaugh!_

The swarm rapidly grew around Donald as he dashed around the stage, the large, blocky teleporter glowing brightly. Which was odd, because it only glowed that brightly whenever someone was usi-

"You _bastards!_" Donald shouted in anger, watching the crew teleport to safety. The massive swarm of undead finally grabbed Donald, clawing and wrenching him into their midst.

Donald barely heard Vee sigh deeply over the sound of his own heartbeat (and screaming).

_**I hAvE tO dO eVeRyThInG mYsElF…**_

For a single moment, everything seemed to slow down. The flash from the teleporter threw ghastly shadows across the stage, the walking ghouls grabbing at Donald even seemed to be clawing at him more slowly. The ringing in his ear had returned, though this time the pressure in the room seemed to raise even higher than before.

**I will **_**not**_** protect you this time, my host…. I will, however, present you with the means of doing so yourself. Now…** Vee said, his voice echoing within Donald's head.

**PROVE YOURSELF WORTHY OF BEING MY HOST, MORTAL!**

Donald felt a sudden surge of power welling up within him, that same dark aura around it. It felt stronger than before, but he still didn't like it. It felt… _wrong_, somehow. Greasy, unhealthy. Regardless, Donald grasped at it and used the same technique he had when fending off Vee from assaulting his mind.

The end result was a massive explosion of raw force, blasting back everything around him with enough power and vigor to rip the floorboards right up from the ground and send them spiraling into the distance.

Along with, of course, about forty-something hungry zombies.

Correction, zombie _pieces_.

Donald reveled in the newfound power for a moment, before the exhaustion from using that much force finally overcame him. Panic overcame him as he felt himself losing consciousness, his last thoughts revolving only around his regret that he hadn't managed to do it quite right after all. He panted and attempted to catch his breath in vain as the world slipped away, and the last thing Donald saw before slipping into unconsciousness was a bright flash of orange and a tall man with a maniacal grin.

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**That's all for now, folks! More will be up soon, though concerning the plight of Danielle and co. or Ichigo and Grimmjow, I don't know.**

**Danielle: He's really not kidding, you know. He's just making this up as he goes along.**

**Donald: As I had previously suspected.**

… **You guys aren't helping in the slightest.**


	24. Chapter 24: Bleach: The Dark Descent

**Hey, everybody! Glad to see you all again!**

**Er… well, **_**type**_** to you all again. Whatever. I'm a bit upset that my chapters haven't been quite as long as I'm used to, and plan to rectify that. I honestly meant to have Danielle as more of a main character, and wound up writing more about Donald instead. Yet another thing to rectify…**

**One final thing. As I have noticed, I wind up having miniature-conversations with OCs throughout the story at the end of the chapters. Note that these are created solely for **_**comedic effect.**_** I have read some of the others made as OCs and wind up Mary Sues, but that's not what frustrates me.**

**What frustrates me are long, in-depth conversations with OCs talking about how awesome they are.**

**This benefits the story in no way whatsoever.**

**It's f**king creepy.**

**Thank you.**

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"….Aaaaaaaand connect this one… _here…_" Danielle said, sticking her tongue between her teeth.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Renji asked her, lugging around a heap of burned cables.

"Not a clue. Gimme that blue one." She said, not taking her eyes off of the machines used only minutes before by Donald. She wasn't particularly certain how it would work, but she'd seen Donald connecting it together. She may not have a photographic memory, but she wasn't stupid.

"How are you sure it will even work?" Rukia asked.

"I dunno," she replied. "But I do have an idea."

"…And?"

"Hmm?" Danielle said, turning. "Oh, sorry. I'm just used to Donald doin' all the explaining. See," she said, pointing to some of the wires, "most of these are still connected. If we can reconfigure the device and initiate another power surge, we have a slight possibility of creating a sort of 'boomerang' effect, and latch onto the same signatures they used to teleport."

Renji just turned to her and blinked, before continuing. "Sorry, I kinda quit listening to you."

"Wha- when?" Danielle asked, hurt.

"When you started talking."

Danielle didn't so much as turn her head to flip him off.

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Ichigo sat up, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the orange lightning, and stumbling around in the dark for some time, Grimmjow in the lead.

Now that he let his eyes adjust to the dim light let in through some of the dusty windows, he could see where he was. Filthy walls made of stone towered above him, and the carpet he sat on was covered in dust and rubble. Most of the windows were dirty or cracked, and what little light that came through was dim enough to see by, but not very far. All in all, the castle hall they were in was rather eerie.

Grimmjow, asleep next to the wall across from him, snored and scratched at his mask.

_Well, at least _somebody's_ not freaked out by this._

A dull groan echoed down the hallway, and Ichigo froze in place. He was so still that he could hear his heartbeat.

Ichigo strained his ears, trying to listen, rationalizing that it could have been his imagination.

Before, of course, the low groan echoed down the hall again, and Ichigo's heart seemed to jump into his throat.

"G-Grimmjow."

Grimmjow merely snorted and rolled over when Ichigo spoke.

"Grimmjow!"

"_Snort – _Bitch, your waffles taste like camels."

"What?"

"What?" Grimmjow asked, rolling over and jumping up. "Whazzit?"

"_That!_" Ichigo said, pointing into the darkness.

Ichigo and Grimmjow stood stock still, listening for any further signs of life. The dust motes in the air tossed themselves carelessly about before gently and quietly seeming to freeze in place.

Ichigo held his breath as he strained his eyes, searching for any form of life, when suddenly, something struck him.

Loudly.

"BARRELS!"

"OH, SWEET JESUS, DON'T KILL ME!"

The figure that struck Ichigo happened to be a homeless man. With an affinity for barrels.

"S-sorry," the bedraggled figure said to Ichigo, helping him up. "I can't help it sometimes." The man himself was quite a mess, with torn clothes and hair that looked like it had gone too long without attention and decided to take over his head. Several cuts and scratches adorned the man's arms and face.

"…'The fuck are you doin'?" Grimmjow asked bluntly.

The man turned to him, grinning. "My name….. is _Peeeeeeewdie Pie!_" he said, before freezing in place and clutching his head. "I… I mean…. _Daniel._ My name is Daniel. I think," he said, confused.

"Why are you here? Where _is_ here?" Ichigo asked.

"I don't know," Daniel replied. "I can't ever seem to escape." He pulled out a lantern to demonstrate.

"See that window up there?"

"Yeah." Ichigo said.

"Watch." And with that, deftly lit the lantern and threw it out the window.

A loud crash resounded, causing Ichigo and Grimmjow to flinch. "I don't get it." Ichigo said, turning to Daniel.

Who was _still holding the lantern._

"….Wait."

"You see?" Daniel said, a manic look in his eyes. "This place is madness. _This. Is. Madness._"

"No," Grimmjow said. "THIS. IS. SPARTA!" and promptly kicked Daniel in the chest.

"Ow!" he said, landing with a _thump_ against the wall. "What was that for?"

"…. I…. don't really know." Grimmjow replied.

"We should probably get out of here now."

Ichigo froze yet again, turning to Daniel. Partially because it was Daniel that spoke. Sort of.

The strange man had pulled out a small, golden statue and had begun pretending it could speak to him.

"Stephano!"

"Allos, Pewdie. But seriously, we're gonna get _fucked up_ in a minute or so."

"Are you… talking to yourself?" Grimmjow asked bluntly.

The man blinked, turning to Grimmjow. "No. I'm talking to Stephano."

"Yeah!" 'Stephano' answered. "So butt the fuck out, or I'll run you over in my SUV. I totally have one of those. It has my face on it, I swear."

"…..'Kay, we're leaving." Ichigo said, pointing with his thumb into the darkness.

Unfortunately for Ichigo, it was at that approximate moment that a large, hulking stitched together abomination lurched out of the darkness, roaring at the top of its lungs.

Prompting, of course, the three to run screaming like little girls in the opposite direction.

"What the _fuck_ is _that_?!" Grimmjow yelped, running as fast as he could down the corridor.

"Bros! Bros, everywhere, Pewdie!" Daniel said to himself in 'Stephano's' accent, the 'Bro' rapidly catching up.

"Crap!" Ichigo groaned in despair, reaching a dead end. "There's no way out – we'll have to fight!" he said. As Ichigo reached for Kon in his pocket, the orange light (savior that it is) wrapped itself around Ichigo and Grimmjow once more and yanked them out of existence.

Leaving Daniel alone (in the dark) at the end of the corridor with an angry oncoming 'Bro'.

"Oh, shit!" 'Stephano' said. "Quick! Use the secret weapon!"

"Boop! Chair mode – activate."

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**Thanks for reading, and reviews are always welcome! More is on the way… Sort of.**

**STAY TUNED FOR THE ALMOST EXCITING CONCLUSION.**


	25. Chapter 25: Totally Not Winging It

**Hey, everybody! Guess who's back from interdimensional-rest stops?**

**Hint: It's me again.**

**I should probably stop giving so many hints. You know how it goes. I don't own Bleach.**

**If I did, I'd buy a bakery just so I could say I roll in dough every day.**

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"Aaaah!"

"Aaaah!"

"Aaaah!"

And that was the entirety of dialogue between Ichigo and Grimmjow as they leapt from yet another dimension, this one filled completely with intelligent life.

Very hungry, eight-legged intelligent life.

Ichigo flailed around in mid-air (mid-space, whatever, it's a portal thing,) to turn around, hoping that none of the massive talking spiders were following them. Thankfully, the only thing Ichigo saw behind him was a rapidly accelerating Grimmjow. Granted, a Grimmjow who's hair was standing on end, giving him the impression of a very frightened blue kitten.

A bloodthirsty, soul-munching kitten. Of death. Yeah.

Ichigo gathered his thoughts and braced himself for the next impact, but it never came. Instead of landing harshly into another world, he felt a slight tug. A strange tug, as if his very being were slowly being pulled in another direction. A glance behind showed Grimmjow making the same mid-air (space, whatever,) turn. The speed at which they were floating increased, but the painful electrical feeling slowly faded as their speed continued to rise to impossible levels.

"… Uh, hey. Ichigo."

"Yeah?" he replied without turning back.

"… How do we _stop_?"

"We're about to find ou- aw, shit!" Ichigo yelled, blinded by the flash of orange electricity.

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"Come on, come _on…_" Danielle muttered, wiping a bead of sweat off her brow. The phone (teleporter, _whatever,_) she held was connected to the multiple heavy devices littered about the clearing. Instead of operating easily like it had for Donald, the phone had apparently decided that now would be an excellent time to activate some kind of security lock, in ascending levels of unlocking difficulty.

Each level was adorned with tiny (adorable, in Danielle's opinion) bobbing purple cat heads.

Accompanying the security levels was a small, nearly irrelevant warning that the phone would shut off if the locks were not opened in time.

Also, the nuclear blast radius would reach a minimum of forty-seven kilometers.

"Work, _work_ you piece of…" Danielle said in a panic, with Renji leaning over her shoulder. Rukia attempted to do the same, but to her dismay, Danielle was a little too much taller than she was.

Danielle found this hilarious.

Her giggling quickly ceased after discovering the security lock measures.

_Ten seconds remaining…_ a pop-up said, the small purple cat head bouncing innocently.

"Crap! It's not gonna work!" Danielle said in despair, fingers flying across the phone in a mad last attempt to force the machine to operate properly.

"You need to focus!" Rukia said, furrowing her brows. "It can't be _that_ bad if you don't win in time."

"It's not a game," Renji said, turning away. "And if she doesn't finish, _we all die._ Uh, again."

"… FINISH IT, DANIELLE! FINISH IT!"

_Three._

"Crap! Crap! Crap!" Rukia said, hiding.

_Two._

"Take cover!" Renji said, ducking.

_One._

"Fuck ass shit dick nipples!" Danielle roared in a rage at her failure, flinging the device away from her as hard as she could.

At that moment, a blinding flash of orange zipped through the air, ripping the cords (the machines, and several trees) apart, striking the cellular teleporter violently.

After a few moments of silence, Danielle raised her head slowly. "Am I dead? Huh. That wasn't nearly as flesh-disintegrate-y as I thought it would b- Grimmjow!"

"… _Ow._" The lump of blue and white groaned, hauling himself up off the ground in pain.

"… Oh, and you guys, too. Hey, Ichigo. Hey, Donald." Danielle said from Grimmjow's back.

"Hrrrrg." Was the only reply she got from Ichigo.

Probably because he was exhausted.

Or maybe because the other two had landed on top of him.

Donald slowly peeled open his eyes, expecting to be in yet another nightmarish situation. His face split into a grin when he realized where he was.

_I'm back… I'm back!_

…

_Oh, shit! I'm back!_ He thought in horror.

"I gotta admit, as much as I like the thought of you bein' underneath a couple of other guys, Ichigo, when it's my brother, it's just so much creepier."

"Back! Get back!" Donald roared, heaving himself away.

And it was just his luck that he bumped directly into Rukia, who latched with an iron grip onto his forearm.

"Let go!" he yelped in terror. "You don't understand!"

"I understand plenty," Rukia said angrily. "You've been keeping more than a couple of secrets, haven't you?" she questioned.

"There's no time for that! You have to get away, _now!_"

Donald felt another hand on his opposite arm, only to turn as quickly as he could to face Renji.

"After you just vanish, you expect us to let you try it again?" he said.

"Danielle! What did you do?" Donald yelled at his sister.

"I… I brought you back…" she said uncertainly. "I saved everybody!"

"_How?!_" he asked desperately, struggling against the two.

"Easy. I just hooked everything back up."

"GODDAMIT, DANIELLE!" he screamed in frustration. "It was a _trap_ before, all you did was re-activate it!"

"… Oh."

And that was all the time she had to say before Donald was yet again yanked out of existence.

Along with the teleporter, Rukia and Renji.

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**With Ichigo and Grimmjow trapped with Danielle, what will become of the second group?**

**I have no idea!**

…

**No, seriously. I'm just winging it by now. After recently recovering from a particularly nasty bought of pneumonia, I decided that it would be cruel to all my awesome readers **_**not**_** to update at least something.**

**Danielle: Don't listen to that liar, he's just bored!**

… **No, I'm not.**

**Danielle: Yes, you are!**

**I have **_**plenty**_** of other things to do!**

**Danielle: Then why aren't you doing them?**

…**. I'm…. lazy?**


	26. Chapter 26: For Want of a Doctor

**Howdy-hey, everybody! Thanks for coming back! Here's another batch of fanfiction goodness.**

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Danielle rolled over in the bed, stretching and letting out a contented sigh. A tuft of blue hair tickled her nose, and she blew it out of the way gently before whispering, "Good morning, beautiful. How was your night?"

Grimmjow's eyes jerked open, and with a scream of terror leapt a decent six feet backwards.

"AAAAAGH! PSYCHO BITCH!"

"Dammit, Grimmjow! That's not how duets work!"

Ichigo poked his head past the door frame, confused. "What's all the noise for?" he asked. "And why are you in Danielle's room?" he questioned Grimmjow. A split second before, of course, he realized that it was evidently not Danielle's room, but Donald's.

Grimmjow clutched at his heart with his left hand, gasping for oxygen. "Scared the _shit_ out of me!" he said through gulps of air. "I think my hair's turning white."

"Well, that isn't quite as appealing, but I can make do." Danielle admitted.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Grimmjow yelled back from his sitting position against the wall (and as far away from Danielle as he could manage). "How did you even get _in_ here? I locked the door!"

"Oh, easy." Danielle said, stretching her arms above her head. "I jimmied the lock with an old credit card last night. You're cute when you're sleeping, by the way."

Grimmjow, panicked, bolted out of the room as quickly as he could.

Ichigo, looking disturbed, asked her, "You've really been in here all night?"

"No," she answered, grinning. "Only about five minutes."

"… Then why didn't you tell him that?" Ichigo wondered aloud.

"Again, easy. 'Cause I wanna see how badly I can mind-fuck him within twenty-four hours." And with that, brushed breezily past Ichigo and downstairs toward the kitchen.

Ichigo was having an increasingly difficult time deciding which of the twins was creepier. And, having thought that, decided it'd be easier to determine which one was less dangerous.

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Donald had long since grown tired of counting the many openings in the metaphysical tunnel he traveled through. Renji and Rukia had both long since been whipped away through different tunnels, leaving him to his thoughts.

And Vee.

"… Christ, this is boring."

_**And who's fault is that, my host?**_

"Yours, obviously. We wouldn't be _in_ this mess if it weren't for you!"

_**No, you'd be **_**dead**_** if it weren't for me.**_

"Really? How so?" Donald asked himself impatiently.

_**You could have been devoured by zombies. Or eaten by wild lions. Or roasted on the surface of an alien sun.**_

"All of which could have been easily avoided had you, gee, I dunno, NOT lied to me about the teleporter!" he roared angrily.

_**It was for the best, my host.**_

"Explain."

_**Would you have complied if I'd told you that in order to send them back to their home, you'd have to forfeit your own?**_

Donald reacted to this with silence, begrudgingly thinking to himself that, no, he probably wouldn't. All he really wanted was to return home. Somewhere quiet, and unexciting.

_**Understandable, my host.**_

Donald, a little unnerved, said "What is?"

_**What you desire. You seem to forget that I see all and hear all that you do. Your thoughts are as plain to me as an open book. Excluding, of course, that one insignificant corner of your mind that I have not yet managed to pry open.**_

"… So what's stopping you?"

_**I do not wish to kill you just yet.**_

If Donald could've stopped, he would have. "KILL me?" he asked, shocked. "How would that-"

_**I am but a fragment.**_

"… Uh, what?"

_**A shell, a shadow of my former self. I am merely a small piece. There were many of us, long ago.**_

Donald immediately silenced himself. It wasn't often Vee spoke of his past, and what little he did share was usually (graphically) violent or just plain disturbing. Vee was quiet for a minute, before he continued.

_**We are old. Ancient, compared to your kind. Over two millennia. I…**_**we**_**, were shattered. Broken in the great schism. The… traveler, that **_**madman**_**… he found us to be a threat to your race. We… **_**I, **_** was given no warning. No signal, no attempt to redeem myself. **_

As Vee continued, Donald's eyes slowly closed, and images of nearly two thousand years ago flitted around his mind. Sights, sounds, emotions of dozens, _hundreds_ of past hosts danced about, chaotically murmuring behind Vee's own voice.

_**He struck without notice. Devastated us with the Box-Light. He weakened us, tormented us with that… **_**perversion**_** of nature and technology. The one with cold intellect.**_

Behind Donald's eyes, stars blurred past, entire galaxies whipping by in mere milliseconds. Donald slowly became aware that whatever Vee was, he wasn't from Earth. Nowhere near.

_**I… my past self, whole, healthy. Came to that place, searching for rest. Recuperation. To build again, to live again. He broke us apart, murdered us, a thousand, thousand times over.**_

Donald watched as Vee opened his eyes for the first time, looking up at the night sky. He felt the pain of movement, weakened by the impact into the surface of the planet. Leaping forward in time, he felt himself being ripped apart by blinding light, dying over and over again, despairing at seemingly endless pain.

_**He cared not for our plight. Only these… revolting bipedals. Called us a monster, unredeemable. The pain he caused us… caused **_**me**_**. And then, in his vast cruelty, left a single piece of me alive. A tiny, insignificant speck. A shred of my former self. Perhaps he wished to watch me suffer.**_

Donald felt tears rolling down his cheeks as he watched, unable to look away from the images in his mind as the pain continued to grow.

_**He obliterated me. Destroyed my home. And I don't. Know. Why.**_

Fire spread throughout what looked like a field, leaping from one bright green stalk to the next.

_**And do you know what he did then? He apologized.**_

An image flashed before Donald's eyes, of a man leaning down, sorrowful expression evident.

_**He caused me so much suffering. And then apologized. Said I was only a child, he followed the wrong one. That there were others before me, but they were all gone. I am the only one left.**_

The images slowly receded, and Donald noticed that his entire body was clenched with anger. He released the tight grip he'd held on his own arms, revealing red welts from the pressure.

_**Now do you understand? **_Vee asked quietly. _**I no longer seek a home. I seek **_**vengeance.**_** This madman, that wandering… **_**abomination**_**. We are not so different. We are both old, though whereas I have aged, suffered, and learned, he has repeatedly escaped the ravages of time itself. I must find this lunatic, this… Lord of Time.**_

Donald froze, thinking furiously.

_**And you have presented me with the means to do so. And when I find him?**_

A chill creeped up Donald's spine, forboding.

_**He will suffer. The humans will suffer. They must ALL suffer.**_

And it was then that Donald realized the true depths of Vee's situation.

Donald was trapped with a stark raving lunatic.

Inside his head.

Speeding along faster than anything in the known universe toward the one person he sincerely hoped he'd never meet on bad circumstances.

Donald was going to England.

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**Glad to be back, everybody! Just thought that Vee needed a bit of backstory, and what better time for Donald to discover it than precisely when it wouldn't do him any good?**

**Donald: God, I hate you.**

**Me? What did I do?**

**Donald: For one, you could just put me in the Bahamas. No worries, no problems. As a matter of fact, you could do that right now!**

**But I won't.**

**Donald: Why not?!**

'**Cause I don't do favors for meanies.**

**Donald: Aaaaaaand now I hate you more.**

**Just shut up and ask people to review.**

**Donald: Make me!**

***Facepalm.***

**Remember, everybody. Your reviews are important! Don't like how the story is, or maybe how it isn't? Let me know! Input is required in order to make the best story possible.**

**Donald: Which nobody cares about because nobody reads it.**

**AND NOBODY ASKED YOU, CRANKY PANTS!**

**New chapter coming soon!**


	27. Chapter 27: On A Schedule Made By Loki

**Welcome back, everybody! In an attempt to keep the story rated 'Humor' I've decided to try something new.**

**Danielle: YOU'RE going to be funny now?**

**Ha ha. Actually, the 'General' rating is going to be dropped in place of something else, but based on fan reviews. I've received quite a few messages, and apparently 'Vee' is a tad bit more important to fans that I had previously reckoned. Which is weird, because the tag says 'Bleach'. Anyway, the whole point of 'Vee' was to introduce a bit of a darker theme to a humorous story, mostly because I like where this is going. The upcoming poll will decide which genre will take the place of 'General', though the 'T' rating is still up for debate. Regardless, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

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Renji kicked a stray tin can angrily out of his way as he walked down the pavement next to Rukia. Unseen, of course, due to the fact that she was the only one of the two with a gigai.

The last time the pair had seen Donald, they had been speeding along down a psychedelic light-tunnel, and then swiftly deposited by the orange lightning into what looked like post-war Germany. The signs were in German, anyway. Large, tattered red banners littered the city, most of which displaying swastikas or propaganda.

"I don't like the looks of this place," Rukia said quietly in the light breeze. Many of the shops along the street had shattered windows, glass coating the sidewalks. No sign of life could be found, save for the stray crow passing overhead, stark against the nearly grey evening light. It was silent, save for the rustling of papers floating about like tumbleweeds.

Rukia caught one nimbly, and after straightening it out a bit, discovered that the date read '1942'.

"Renji," Rukia said.

"Hmm?" he replied, without ceasing his can-kicking.

"We should probably leave." She said, crumpling the papers and tossing them aside.

Shouting grabbed her attention, tearing her eyes from the debris. A man in a grey uniform shouted something to her, motioning to come closer.

"Hey. I think that guy wants you to come closer," Renji stated.

"Gee, _thanks,_ captain obvious." Rukia replied dryly, stomping toward the man.

As she came closer, she noticed that the same swastikas on the tattered posters and signs was the same as the one on his arm patch. The vehicle he stood next to looked to be in good condition, in contrast to the area it sat idle in. The man shouted something at her, expectantly awaiting a reply.

"… Er, sorry?" she asked.

The man shouted at her again, tapping his foot and pointing at the vehicle. It was then that she noticed the automatic weapon on his side.

"…Renji."

"Yeah?" he replied, invisible to the waiting soldier.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Definitely." He said, grinning.

The man grew angrier by the moment, pointing about at the wreckage and demanding an answer (to which Rukia had no reply). He made a symbol with one hand, rubbing his fingers together. The universal sign for money. Rukia was glad that some symbols were still universal. Once again, he pointed at the vehicle with his free hand, gripping his weapon with the other.

To his surprise, however, the automatic rifle floated up out of his hands.

And slowly began disassembling itself.

Panicking, the man turned about to the vehicle, swearing heavily in German, only to find that Rukia had positioned herself comfortably in the driver's seat. "Oh, is this what you meant?" she asked in a mock-surprised tone. "You're giving me your car? How generous!" she said, shifting the idle vehicle into drive and jamming her foot down on the pedal.

Thankfully, Renji clambered into the back seat just in time before she left him.

"Damn! Thanks for waiting!" he said angrily.

The German soldier behind them stared after her in shock, before resuming his profane rant.

Only to receive a universal symbol from Rukia out the window in return as she sped away with his vehicle.

If they thought he was loud before, he must have broken a few records on loud shouting this time.

Rukia grinned to herself, glad that some symbols were still universal.

"… Uh, Rukia?" Renji asked, nervous. "Do you know how to drive this thing?"

"Not a clue!" she replied happily as the orange lightning wrapped itself around them once more before the pair vanished from the face of the planet.

The German soldier eventually recovered his vehicle from its subsequent stop.

Every single piece of it.

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"… Okay, so, this button does… what now?" Grimmjow asked in confusion.

"Grenade, _frag _grenade," Danielle responded without removing her eyes from the screen.

"Then how co- _shitshitshitshitshitshitshit !_" Grimmjow jumped, finding himself surrounded by virtual zombies.

"Aw, come on, _again_?" she said, leaning slightly as she turned her character around in order to save Grimmjow.

Again.

Several important things Danielle had learned that morning.

It was always a good idea to distract a terrified person with something they were interested in, particularly if Danielle happened to like said thing.

Secondly, you could get away with _anything_ if you bribed someone with enough caffeine.

Hence, the reason Grimmjow was sitting in the den next to Danielle sipping cola and playing video games instead of running screaming in fear from her.

Which was his initial (and probably smarter) reaction.

"I don't get your obsession with that… _thing."_ Ichigo said idly to Danielle as he watched from the adjoining room.

"Easy, spike-head," Grimmjow replied. "It's like a replacement. Can't kill you on a whim, so kill zombies."

"… I wasn't talking about the game," Ichigo countered, trying not to grin as he gulped more cola.

Only to be greeted with that oh-so-offensive universal symbol from Grimmjow's spot on the couch.

"You know," Danielle said, bobbing back and forth through hordes of the undead with ease, "you two should totally just bone and get it over with."

Grimmjow immediately dropped his bulky wireless controller, and Danielle could hear Ichigo choking on cola in the other room. She'd begun to count score on how many times she could get him to do that from shock alone.

"… Uh….. _What?_" was Grimmjow's only reply, peering at her and attempting not to look deeply disturbed.

And not doing a very good job of it.

"Oh, _come on,_" she said, blasting away a small group of zombies. "there's so much sexual tension between you two I could cut it with a nipple." _Bang!_ "Knife! I meant to say _knife_," she said, correcting herself.

"…. Uh…. No. Just… no." was Ichigo's only reply.

"A blunt knife, ideally."

"That's… messed up, even for you, Danielle," Ichigo said.

"Oh, really?" she said, leaving the game. "Obviously, Donald didn't introduce you guys to the internet when you arrived."

"Why's that?" Grimmjow asked warily.

"Because if he had," she said, standing, "you two would swear I'm the sanest person you've met here."

Ichigo snorted into his drink, to Danielle's dismay.

"Oh, you don't believe me?" she asked.

Ichigo only stared back at her expectantly. "… Uh… no? Yeah, I'm gonna go with _no_," he said bluntly.

"All right," Danielle said reluctantly, "you asked for it." And with that, whipped out a small laptop from underneath the sofa.

After a few moments (and high pitched _dings!)_ later, multiple photographs of both Grimmjow and Ichigo floated around the screen.

Very colorful, graphic photographs.

Ichigo leaned over the back of the couch to get a better look, and immediately dropped his drink in horror.

Grimmjow leaned as far back into the sofa as he possibly could, as if wishing that he could push his eyeballs out the back of his head by thought alone.

"Oh, you think this is bad? Just wait until we get to the _fanfiction,_" Danielle said, grinning.

"… It…. It gets _worse?!_" Ichigo stammered quietly in fright.

"A _lot_ worse," Danielle replied ominously.

And a lot worse it did get, hundreds upon _thousands_ of awful slash fiction and graphic pairings whipping by on the screen.

A small, nearly unnoticed gurgling noise came from Grimmjow. Upon closer inspection, Danielle noticed that his eyeballs had actually rolled back up into his head at some point.

"… Wow," Danielle said, grinning as she put the personal computer away. "I didn't think I'd actually scare him _that_ badly," she said a little guiltily.

"You… you are an awful person." Ichigo said quietly, backing away from her.

"And?" she asked, slowly moving the drooling Grimmjow.

"And…. I'm terrified of you?"

"Well, that's not the answer I was goin' for, but okay," she said, laying Grimmjow softly down on the floor.

After a few moments, Ichigo asked curiously "Uh… what are you doing now?"

"I'm trying to fill a quota within twenty-four hours," she stated. "Didn't we already cover this?"

She pulled out a small vial, showing it carefully to Ichigo. "Smellin' salts," she said. "Donald always has some of these around. Figured I'd nick a few."

_... Nick?_ He thought as he leaned over to watch her.

As she waved the salts underneath Grimmjow's nose, his eyes slowly fluttered open.

"…Uuuurrrrggh…" he groaned. "Wha-… I had the most horrible nightmare… What happened?" he asked.

And Danielle couldn't have asked for a more perfect set-up line.

"Oh, thank goodness you're okay, Mister Jeagerjaques," Danielle said, fanning herself with her free hand.

"… What?" he said, blinking heavily.

"You passed out in the middle of your gay pornography shoot again!" she said without missing a beat as Ichigo leaned in next to Danielle.

"You 'da bitch," Ichigo said in a husky voice.

Grimmjow screamed in terror, bolting away as fast as he could and down the hall.

Danielle turned, silent for a moment as she stared at Ichigo.

Before bursting out laughing as hard as she could.

"AH-HAHAHAHA! Oh, g- oh, god! AH-HAHA!"

"Damn, I… Hehe, I didn't think he'd actually fall for that!" Ichigo said between great gulps of air.

"HEE-HEEE! Did- did you see the l- haha! The look on his face? _You 'da bitch._ Oh, god, that's brilliant!"

The pair laughed themselves silly, and continued to do so for the next few minutes.

"Oh… Oh god. I'm never going to forget that one. NEVER." She said, wiping a tear from her eye and pulling out a pad of paper from her pocket.

"What's that for?" Ichigo said, wary for any more tricks.

"Didn't I say I have a quota to fill?" she replied mischievously, brushing a few stray locks of black hair out of her eyes. "I've got another whole twenty-two hours left!"

Ichigo was all for scaring the hell out of Grimmjow, but he feared that if they continued, someone was going to wind up dying.

And it would probably be Grimmjow, from heart failure.

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**Great to be active again, dudes and dude-ettes! Reviews are always welcome – in fact, I have a review welcome mat!**

**Danielle: Really?**

…**. Well, no, not really. But it sounds nice.**

**Danielle: False f*cking advertisement!**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	28. Chapter 28: Hell Of An Answering Machine

**Sorry it took so long to update, dudes and dudettes! Yada yada yada, I don't own Bleach. Got that out of the way. On the downside, I've been too busy lately to update regularly. On the upside, I now have tons of new chapters incoming. Duck!**

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Donald trudged along the steps slowly, dragging yet another amplification system behind him. The flight of steps had quickly grown to be Donald's most hated enemy. Well, almost, anyway. Vee still took the cake. The labor did, however, give him plenty of time to think.

_All right, so, I'm still confused._

Donald heard Vee sigh deeply. He was fairly certain that if the non-corporeal entity lurking in his head had the option, he'd have ditched him long ago.

_**Yes, my host?**_ He asked impatiently.

_Well, you said you've lived eons, right?_

_**I did, my host.**_

_How?_

_**In my most basic of stages, I am nigh immortal. However, I am also pathetically weak. It is how that traitorous dog ambushed me when I crashed into your planet.**_

_Ah, good, I was hoping you'd bring that up again,_ Donald thought as he heaved the loudspeaker into place in the tower next to the others. The gears of Big Ben ticked and turned as Donald set about the task given him.

… _**And, why is that, my host?**_

_I should think it's obvious._ Donald thought smugly, wiping the sweat from his brow as he finished aiming the newly developed sonic-cannon directly at the clock portion of the tower.

_You said you crashed into my planet. _MY_ planet. Which would explain how you wound up in my head. What does that have to do with a time-traveling doctor from a DIFFERENT dimension? And, on that note, what does that have to do with animated characters or zombies?_

… _**You think too much, my host.**_

_You didn't answer the question, Vee._

The all too familiar whirring of the TARDIS landing nearby caught Donald's attention.

_**Good, the trap is set.**_

_Vee, you didn't answer me. When you showed me the vision… how much did you lie about? _Donald asked.

Several silent moments ticked by, before Vee replied.

… _**Not much.**_

_Which parts?_

_**The ones that are on a need to know basis.**_

_Dammit, Vee!_

A loud clang echoed from within the tower, deep below him (them). Donald felt Vee's attention sharpen (which was strange enough, in itself) to an incredible level as someone stumbled over much of the debris Donald had been instructed to clutter the passage.

"Take it easy, Rose Tyler! If you fall down… well, I'm just going to have to laugh at you."

"Oh, ha, ha! _Very_ witty! Give me a hand already, would you?" a female voice echoed up angrily.

_**Now's our chance! Hide!**_

_Wha- hide _where?Donald thought quizzically. Indeed, there was nowhere to hide except for behind a few pieces of leftover equipment used to construct the (poorly made) sonic cannon.

_**Oh, for the love of- up THERE, imbecile!**_

Donald peered above at the rafters far overhead. _And how ex- whoa, what are you doing?_

He suddenly felt Vee grab control of his legs, kneel down, and then gracefully pounced upward like a panther to cling to one of the rafters before lifting himself up. Donald felt a slight drain on his energy, but not nearly as much as had been used to fend off the undead.

… _Holy shit, that must have been twenty feet. How… how did you _do_ that?_

_**I have been slowly modifying your body to adapt more quickly. Nothing much, but enough to endure greater amounts of damage and enhanced muscularity.**_

… _MODIFYING me? What am I, a toaster?_

_**Might as well be,**_ Vee replied arrogantly. _**Useless, incompetent little humans. And funny little brains, too. How **_**do**_** you get around in those things?**_

"Can't be too far ahead, now," a male voice echoed through the area. "Ah… what's this?" he heard as a tuft of brown hair wandered beneath him, a blond woman following close behind.

"Eh, Doctor?" the woman who must have been Rose asked. "Is that a weapon?"

"Well, obviously," he replied quickly, kneeling down to look at the shabby cannon. "Sonic, from the looks of it. Not made for heavy destruction. It'd barely take out the clock tower, but if that's what whoever's behind this is up to, I suppose it might work." He said, scratching the back of his head.

_**No, not yet. **_Vee said quietly, taking total control of Donald's body and crouching into position.

"I think the more important question is _why_ someone would want to blow up Big Ben…" Rose said, looking about.

"That's what I can't seem to figure out," the Doctor replied thoughtfully, investigating the cannon more carefully. "But why sonic? There are all sorts of other, much _better_ devices to use." He said quickly. "_Why_ sonic? It's almost as if…" he trailed off.

_**Almost…**_

_Almost what?_

_**On the verge of comprehension. **_Vee said in anticipation.

"As if _what_?" Rose asked impatiently, turning around.

"Somebody's sending a message."

"**MESSAGE RECEIVED!**" Vee yelled, leaping down and kicking Rose Tyler in the back and punching the Doctor simultaneously. Rose dropped to the ground in pain, and the Doctor flew backwards into one of the speakers with a clang.

_Oh, dude! Not cool! Not cool!_

_**What now?**_ Vee thought, rushing forward at the Doctor.

_WHAT NOW? You just hit a girl! A. Girl!_

… _**My god, you really are an ass.**_

With that, Vee used Donald's arm and heaved the Doctor up by the throat. Donald had to marvel at the sheer strength he'd developed. At the same time, he was horrified by what Vee was using it for.

Vee chuckled wickedly, grinning in triumph. "**Finally… After all this waiting! Revenge… is finally…!"**

He stopped mid-sentence, letting the Doctor dangle for a moment. Which looked very odd, because of Donald's short stature, he was forced to hold him at an angle. Once the Doctor had his bearings, he tilted his head (what little he could) and said to Donald, "You know, it's not good to leave your sentences hanging like that. Ooh, wait, is it a riddle? I _adore_ riddles. Here, let me have a go."

Donald remained silent, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. Vee was apparently in shock, refusing to move or so much as answer.

"Let me think… Revenge. Revenge. Revenge is finally… blue? Is it blue? No, revenge is cold. But it's also sweet. Ah, I'll bet it's ice cream. Is the answer ice cream?"

_Vee? You still there? Mister 'master plan' getting cold feet, or something? Come on, answer me!_

… _**It's the wrong one.**_

_Eh?_

Donald heard the blonde woman slowly getting to her feet behind him, as he remained unable to do anything but stare at the time traveler thanks to Vee denying his requests to relinquish control.

"Erm… revenge. Revenge is finally… Jam? Strawberry. I've got it. The answer is jam – _definitely_ strawberry jam."

Donald felt his muscles clench and release multiple times as Vee trembled in rage.

_**You… you **_**idiot.**_** It's the wrong one!**_

_Wrong what? How is it _my _fault?_

_**That's only nine! We're in the wrong time – it hasn't happened yet!**_

And that was the last thing Donald heard before a heavy _clunk_ resounded throughout the area. As his grip on the doctor vanished, he found himself slowly drifting sideways and landing on the floor. Which he could not feel. Aside from the blinding pain in the back of his head, he couldn't feel anything. The vision around his eyes began to darken as he was rolled over, only to see the blonde woman heaving around one of the smaller loudspeakers.

… _**Oops.**_

_How many times am I going to pass out?_ He managed to think before he did just that.

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This had to be, quite possibly, the worst day of Grimmjow's life. Well, that he could remember. He stomped along angrily, the wind whipping about. After suffering at the hands of Danielle repeatedly, he'd decided to leave as quickly as possible.

And now he was lost.

No trees, no plants, no animals – nothing. Just dirt. Lots and lots of dirt.

He was fairly certain it was still farmland – much of it was tilled and ready for planting.

There were plenty of clouds, however. It always seemed to be raining.

Grimmjow _hated_ the rain.

He thrust his fists into his pockets and stalked onward more briskly, hoping to find some kind of shelter before it began pouring down.

Again.

Memories of recent events kept him moving onward, wherever his destination might be. Danielle jamming a vial of smelling salts in his left nostril. Danielle warping his mind with 'shipping'. Whatever the hell _that_ abomination was. Danielle super-gluing his arm to a dump truck just before it sped away. Danielle blindfolding him and leaving him in a hair salon. Danielle coating him in glitter and brown gravy.

Danielle.

Danielle.

Danielle.

_Danielle._ Oh, how he _hated_ that little monster! He thought angrily as he continued, stomping the earth flat in his rage. That girl had caused him suffering – nothing but suffering since the moment he awoke. From the very moment he had gained consciousness, and even when she was miles away, she was _still_ tormenting him!

It had taken all of his willpower not to simply rip her arms of and beat her senseless with them. And that orange haired brat, too. He could probably take them. At the same time, if he tried.

_Stands around useless, doesn't do anything to stop her: he's a menace, just like her._

Grimmjow's rage steadily extended in Ichigo's direction as he wandered aimlessly. Thunder rumbled loudly overhead, warning those underneath it of the oncoming storm.

_Bring it on,_ he thought vengefully, hand reaching for the hilt of his zanpakuto, as if he could cut down the clouds if they so much as _thought_ of soaking him.

Eventually, he stopped at sat at the top of a hill, looking about at the endless fields. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, covering them with his palms.

…_Why can't I remember?_

After a moment of silence, a voice echoed back at him.

_**You didn't even try to remember me.**_

… _Dafuq?_

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**Thanks for reading everybody! Next chapter will be up soon, and reviews are always welcome!**


	29. Chapter 29: Beware Der Ritter

**Got another chapter here, get it while it's hot!**

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"Huuuuuurrgg…" Donald groaned groggily, vision blurry. His head ached horribly, and he could feel himself slipping into and out of consciousness. He quickly closed his eyes again, sleep ready to take him once more. Donald could feel someone carrying him before eventually putting him down into a sitting position against a wall. A small, metallic _click! _went around his wrist, and even disoriented as he was, he could easily identify it as a set of handcuffs.

"Er… Rose?" he heard from somewhere nearby.

"Yeah, doc?"

"… Why, exactly, do you have a pair of handcuffs?"

"Well, 'cause, y'know… you just… never know, when, uh, you might need… a set of cuffs."

"… I'll take your word for it."

The heavy whirring noise Donald heard before the Doctor and his companion arrived sounded again, and the noise was _brutal_ on his eardrums. Or, more importantly, the overwhelming migraine he had.

_**Sleep, my host…**_

_Why? _Thought Donald, _So you can 'maneuver' my appendages more easily?_ He said angrily as he slowly lost connection to the world around him. _So you can 'save' me from all the pain?_

… _**Come with me, my host.**_

Donald was silent for a moment as the rest of the world went totally black. _All right… but to where? What for?_

_**Nowhere. I just think it's time we properly introduced ourselves.**_

… '_The hell is _that_ supposed to mean?_

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No matter where Donald looked, there were trees. Thin, spindly, dead trees in every direction. The ground was solid, but cold. A light mist coated the area, slinking around roots and winding up through the tree branches. The last time Donald checked, mist didn't defy the laws of physics.

Meaning that he must be hallucinating, or something.

He stood in one spot for a moment, peering around through the pale moonlight for something, _any_ sign of life.

Instead, just as he turned his head to start off in a random direction, a flash of movement went by in the corner of his eye. Donald's head snapped around, searching warily for the source of movement. However, he found that when he did so, the movement shifted to the other side of him. Every single time he moved his head.

_This does not bode well._

_It must be an optical illusion caused by the mist in the trees…_ Donald thought to himself.

_**Silly humans. Rationalizing everything they can't understand.**_

Donald's head snapped up again, listening closely.

_Vee?_ He thought.

_**What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?**_

"… Vee?" Donald said aloud nervously. The rapid movement in the trees came to a halt. Donald checked a few more times, quickly turning his head back and forth. No movement.

"Vee? Is th- _holy FUCK_." Donald exclaimed in shock.

A tall, dark figure slowly emerged from behind the trees. Though I suppose that isn't the proper term. The figure didn't so much as _emerge_ as he did _materialize_, the shadows of the dim forest wrapping themselves around him and slowly revealing an incredibly tall, lanky man.

A tall, very _thin_ and faceless man.

In a suit.

"… Vee?" Donald asked quietly in a shaky voice. His heart felt like it was freezing in his chest.

"**I don't know why you seem so disturbed, my host,"** Vee stated cheerfully, his faceless head tilting toward his (it's?) shoulder. **"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like me."**

Donald rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. Once he looked back up, however, the lanky faceless man had vanished. _Am I hallucinating or not?_ he thought.

"**Nope,"** Vee said, his pale white faceless head suddenly appearing in front of Donald as he leaned over him from behind. Donald screamed and leapt forward in terror. **"I don't think so."**

"Holy _shit_, dude! Don't _do _that!" Donald yelled from the ground, crawling away backwards and clutching his heart, trying to steady his breathing.

"**Don't do **_**what**_**, my host?" **Vee asked him mockingly, spreading his hands out innocently as if he had nothing to hide. **"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. I believe you are losing your mind."**

"Where… where are we?" Donald asked quickly.

Vee turned to him, as if questioning his reason for asking. **"Well, I should think it's obvious, my host. After all, you created this gloomy little hollow. Such a boring place, really. Quiet, but boring."**

Donald thought rapidly, climbing to his feet. "What do you mean, _I_ created it? How did we get here?"

"… **My my, you are a **_**thick**_** one."** Vee stated bluntly, turning back to look at the trees.

"Are we… inside my head?" Donald inquired. "Is this some kind of mental symbology crap?"

"**Close enough,"** Vee replied, crossing his arms as if disappointed. **"This place is rotting. **_**Decaying.**_** And as much as I love watching a human fall apart from the inside out, it's not quite as much fun when it's my host."**

"What do you mean, decaying?" Donald asked. "Do you mean… I'm dying?"

The mist swirled weakly around Donald's feet, as if trying to swallow him.

"**More like… slowly suffocating."** The tall slender man said to him. It was very strange, watching him speak without a mouth. Like his voice echoed out from everywhere around him instead. **"You lack the sufficient… **_**spiritual nutrients**_** that your world is incapable of producing. The constant universe jumping has taken a rather drastic toll on the both of us."**

As Donald inspected himself, he saw that we was rather thin… more so than that. A small puddle nearby glinted in the moonlight, and Donald kneeled down to view his reflection.

"**I wouldn't suggest that…"** Vee stated without moving, his head following Donald's movement.

Donald ignored him and leaned over the puddle to get a better look at himself. Which was almost as horrifying as Vee scaring the hell out of him.

His face had grown gaunt and thin, the skin pulled back from food and sleep deprivation. His brown eyes and sunken into his head, giving him a hungry, skeletal look. His hair had grown filthy and wild, and Donald's feral reflection glared at, haunted.

"… Jesus Christ."

_**Not even close,**_Vee said mentally, placing his long fingered hand on Donald's shoulder. Oddly enough, he knew it was there, but he couldn't feel it. As he wondered, Vee answered as if he could read his mind.

Which he could, of course.

_**It's because you are leaving this place. Slowly. These are the last vestiges of sanity you shall have for quite a while. Lost, in this forsaken place.**_

As Donald felt himself drift back into unconsciousness, the last thing he heard echoed from Vee.

_**But you shall not be alone. No.**_

The world went black, and Donald grew very cold.

_**I have seen your mind. My grip remains firm around your heart. And hold your soul in my hands.**_

As he slipped away back into the real world, he heard Vee whisper quietly to him;

_**No, my host. You shall never be alone again.**_

And Donald could almost swear he heard him smiling.

…

Which disturbed him, a very great deal.

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"So… are we even going to look for him?" Ichigo asked Danielle as he stared out the window as yet another storm rolled in.

"Well, I would, but I've got somethin' really important ta do first." She replied, brushing a lock of black hair out of her eyes.

"Lemme guess," Ichigo said, rolling his eyes as he turned back to her. "Zombies to shoot, snacks to shovel down-"

"_No,_ ass-hat." Danielle said, heading upstairs. "In case you hadn't noticed, we've got three people missing now, not including Grimmjow."

"Yeah, and?" Ichigo yelled up the stairs after her as she speedily climbed away. "What now?"

"Now," Danielle said to herself as she silently unlocked Donald's door with a bobby pin, "we go get them back."

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**Hope you enjoyed, everybody!**


	30. Chapter 30: Nothing Is Sacred

**I'm back, everybody! I'll bet you counted the hours 'till I came back, huh?**

…

**No?**

**F*ck. Well, you know how it goes. I don't own Bleach, but I'm gonna write about it anyway. Enjoy.**

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Danielle softly stepped into Donald's room, her sneakers squeaking slightly on the polished hard wood floor.

She noticed that Donald's room was quite a bit different from everyone else's. For example, there was no carpeting here. Or much decoration.

And everything was white. The bookshelves along one wall (with everything assorted alphabetically) were egg-white, and beside that was a small desk (white also) with a tiny lamp shining over what looked like paperwork. Even the curtains lining the single window were pure white, and blotted out much of the sunlight. It did, however, provide a pleasant view of the new clearing.

_It always looks more like an office to me,_ Danielle thought to herself as she noted the small white painted wooden bed in the corner, neatly tucked away. In short, it was the precise opposite of Danielle's room.

"So…" Ichigo said as he poked his head around the corner, "Don't you think your brother will be pissed when he finds out you broke into his room?"

"Yeah, probably," Danielle replied as she pulled a small safe from beneath his bed. "But by the time he finds out, he'll be too grateful toward me for saving his ass to complain much."

Ichigo peered quizzically at the steel safe Danielle held. A single fingerprint scanner adorned the side for the lock.

"Heh. Betcha can't pick _that_ lock." Ichigo said, grinning.

"Oh, really?" Danielle said, cocking an eyebrow at him. "This is my little brother we're talking about. He might be genius material, but he hasn't got anything _I_ can't figure out." And with that, pulled a small sheet of plastic from her back pocket and wrapped it around her thumb. "See?" she said, showing it to Ichigo. "I'll bet Donald left a fingerprint on the scanner. I can just use this to trick the machine into thinking I've got Donald's fingerprint!"

"That's… actually pretty clever," Ichigo admitted.

"Now," she said, setting the safe on the desk and gesturing with her arms. "Stand back in awe!" She pressed her thumb against the scanner and waited for the release mechanism to activate.

Instead, a small, defiant _beep_ sounded in alarm that the fingerprint was unaccepted.

"… Uh…" Danielle said.

"Ha! Ha ha ha ah ah ha ha!" Ichigo laughed, clutching his stomach. "You're right! I'm in _awe_ of your failure!" he continued laughing while Danielle whipped her head angrily back at the safe.

"I'll crack this baby… just you watch!" she growled, yanking open a drawer on Donald's desk and rummaging around for a minute.

After Ichigo had finished chuckling at her (with several heavy staplers thrown at his head) Danielle withdrew from the desk a single bottle of disinfectant spray. She held it gingerly by the top, careful not to touch it.

"What, so now you're going to clean it?" Ichigo asked, grinning.

Without answering, she dumped the contents of the bottle into the wastebasket beside the desk, wrapped her finger in plastic and placed it inside the bottle directly over the fingerprint. Danielle held the bottle carefully in front of the scanner, biting her lower lip in anticipation.

To her delight, a high pitched _beep_ resounded through the room, and the lockbox opened with a swift _click!_

"Boo-yah!" she yelled in triumph, waving the bottle at Ichigo. "In yo' _face_!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo grumbled, brushing her hand away. "Why did you need to break in here in the first place?" he asked.

"Oh, sure Mr. Grumpy-Pants-Sore-Loser, change the subject."

"You didn't answer the question!" he retorted angrily.

"Hmph." She grunted, rifling through the contents of the box. "Donald has a photographic memory, but he keeps backups of all his contact information."

"So?"

"_All_ of his backup contact information. Meaning everyone he's spoken with in the past _decade_. So, I just need to find out who Donald got the majority of those supplies from in order to build that stuff he had and… Bingo!" she said gleefully, lifting out a small red book and several schematics. "I'm really good at putting stuff together. Didn't you wonder how you guys got back so fast? Yeah, you're welcome, by the way. So, anyway, all I have to do is follow these diagrams and I can make a soul reaper-detector, easy peasy!"

Ichigo nodded slowly, and asked "That's great, but how will that find them from another dimension?"

Danielle held up a finger, carefully putting the lockbox back in place. "Ah, now there's the kicker. A certain universe traveling cat-boy still owes me a favor for saving his heiney from being electrocuted. I mean, that's _my_ T.V. he used, so technically, I saved him. And it's about time I called in that favor." She said, smiling back at Ichigo.

"Literally."

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(WPOV)

I sit back on my beach chair, watching the sun set on the horizon over the water. The light glistens over the sea waves, rolling peacefully as dusk sets. I sigh contentedly, arms behind my head as I kick back to finally relax.

It's been a hell of a week. First I get sucked into an alternate dimension, get trapped with crazy people, and the world starts to fall apart if I'm not here. After all the work, it's good to finally get to relax once in a wh-

_Briing. Briing._

Huh. That's weird. I don't remember calling anyone before, so it must be Blaze trying to find me. Why she doesn't just use the psychic link between us is beyond me.

_Briing. Briing._

"Nyeeeehhhh…." I groan. "I can't seem to… reach the phone," I say, the phone an inch out of my reach.

"…Anti, you get it."

"Aw, come on!" I hear from the phone. "You can't be _that_ lazy!"

"Try me," I reply, not moving from my spot.

… Bite me, that warm chair is comfy.

"Hello? Is Wyatt there?" I hear a girls voice on the other end wind up from the phone.

I yank the phone up and jam it against my ear, listening.

"… I'm across the fucking _universe._ How the… how did you get this number?" I ask.

"I've… got a favor ta ask…"

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**More on the way when I can manage, fans!**


	31. Chapter 31: All According To Plan

**New chapter up, everybody! Celebrating that sixty-thousand word mark, FINALLY. I don't own Bleach and GOD IS THAT GETTING REPETETIVE.**

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The TARDIS whipped along through the space-time continuum at high speeds, tossing this way and that. Its inhabitants, however, remained quite stable.

Well, as stable as multiple unstable people can get.

"So… what do we do with 'im?" Rose asked the Doctor curiously. "I mean, shouldn't we-"

"Ah, there are all sorts of things we _should_ be doing," the Doctor replied, holding up a finger and simultaneously fiddling with a multi-levered mechanism on a panel. "But before we can do any of them, we need information. Besides, I'm long overdue for any sort of interrogation."

… _Interrogation?_ Donald thought groggily, slowly returning to the land of the conscious.

Donald felt the world around him steadily come to a stop, and the Doctor leapt down from a set of steps to the doors of the Police Box and flung them wide open.

Revealing an incredible and beautiful sight. _Terrifying, _but beautiful.

… _Oh my god. That's a-_

"A dying sun, Rose." The Doctor said, presenting it as if he would a present. "And one of the very few things aside from total universal collapse that can kill one of those things," he said, jabbing a finger at Donald.

"… Uh…" Donald uttered, confused. "… What?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not _you_- well, technically, yes, you too, but I was actually talking to _that."_ The Doctor answered, pointing directly at Donald's head.

_**Oh, **_**hell**_** no. You did **_**not**_** just threaten me, little mortal.**_

_Why do you suddenly sound like an angry black woman?_

Vee had no reply, and when he attempted to use Donald's body to lunge forward, he found that the set of handcuffs held his right wrist firmly in place to a steel bar.

Donald yanked control of his body away from Vee, as if it were the same as grabbing a pair of reigns and froze himself in place, refusing to move his legs.

"Look," Donald said to the Doctor nervously, "I don't know _what_ bad blood you two have between each other, but there's no need to incinerate _me_ over it." He griped angrily, gesturing at himself with his free hand. "I didn't start any of this. I don't want anything to _do_ with this. I'm normal. I'm… look, I'm _nobody._ I'm normal!" he demanded loudly.

He heard laughter from someone else, and a man's head popped up on one of the higher levels of the TARDIS. "Pfft. Normal? You? Before slash after meeting Doc? Yeah. And I have no idea what I'm doing." The muscular man said, standing up straight and brushing dust off of his pant legs.

"I thought you already _said_ you had no idea what you were doing?" Rose asked him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's not helping. Harness, by the way," the man said, stepping down and presenting a handshake to Donald. "_Captain_ Jack Harness."

He looked a little offended when Donald didn't shake his hand, but instead stood in one place glaring angrily at him. Before, of course, he noticed the set of handcuffs. Looking around at the open TARDIS door and the Doctor, Jack asked "So… finally getting around to one of those interrogations?"

"Well, if anyone would ever stop _interrupting me!_" the Doctor replied haughtily, crossing his arms.

"Interrogate _who_ for _what_?!" Donald roared, yanking futilely at the cuffs.

"Right," the Doctor said, slowly drawing the doors closed and sitting down Indian-style in front of Donald. "Right… _right._"

"That's getting annoying. Can you get to a point, or does everything have to be dramatized first?" Donald asked impatiently, sitting down also and glowering blatantly at the man across from him.

_**Hmm. I wonder why **_**that**_** sounds so familiar.**_ Vee said mockingly. Donald pushed him away mentally and focused on the situation at hand.

"..." the man in front of him took a deep breath and sighed slowly, furrowing his eyebrows. "… You set a trap."

"Yes." Donald answered immediately.

"For me."

"Yes." Again, immediate.

"Why?"

"For revenge."

"Well, that was easy." The doctor said, stretching his arms behind his back. He froze in place, peering carefully at Donald. "Wait, what?"

"I said, for revenge." Donald answered. "His, not mine. I don't even _know _you. Well, that's not really true, I suppose…" Donald said, scratching his chin. "I know the doctor after you a bit better."

"There's a doctor _after_ this one?" Rose asked. "What does he mean by that?"

"He's a time lord," Donald replied. "They regenerate periodically. This is his ninth regeneration."

The Doctor had all but stopped breathing, and sat very, very still in front of Donald.

"… How do you know that?"

_**Time for a few mind games. Be subtle.**_

"I know many things. Yet another reason not to throw me into a burning sun just to get to _this_ parasite." Donald said, pointing at his head.

… _**All right, not as subtle as I'd have liked, but-**_

"And why does that parasite want revenge against me?" the Doctor asked.

"Because you all but killed him and left him in another dimension to rot."

_**Okay, **_**fuck**_** subtlety. You know what? You're **_**terrible**_** at this. Next time, **_**I **_**do all the talking.**_

"Well, not _yet,_ anyway. But judging from the fact that you immediately realized him as a parasite and know how to kill him, I'm guessing that you know what he is."

_**I changed my mind, my host. I hate you. I hate you **_**so**_** much right now.**_

_Believe you me, the feeling is reciprocal._

"So, what you're telling me is," the Doctor said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, "You know the _future_ me, but you're talking to _past_ me because…"

_**I made a miscalculation,**_

"He fucked up."

_**I made a damn miscalculation!**_

"Well…" the Doctor said, slowly standing up, "I suppose there's only one thing left to do now…"

"You're…" Donald choked out, finding it suddenly very difficult to swallow. "You're really going to throw me into a dying sun?"

"What?" he asked, shocked, whipping his head back to Donald. "Oh, no. No, no. _God_ no. Most of the victims of his particular race wind up mind-warped zombies, shells of their former selves. Slaves to the parasite. You… _You_ on the other hand," he said, pacing slowly back and forth before slowly coming to a stop in front of Donald.

"You're quite unusual. Nothing marvelous,"

"Gee, thanks. You really know how to boost someone's morale."

"Nothing _marvelous,_" he continued, ignoring Donald. "but you're still conscious. Aware of the parasite, even. My god, by all means, you should be _dead_ right now."

"I am so grateful you weren't our school's mascot."

_**Hmmph. He wouldn't be able to kill me, anyway. He's weak.**_

"What do you mean?" Donald said suddenly, tilting his head as if to listen more carefully.

_**I am the last of my race. Killing- no, **_**murdering**_** me here would mean genocide.**_

"It can communicate?" the Doctor asked, suddenly much more curious.

"Why?" Donald asked suspiciously. "I thought you knew about… whatever the hell Vee is?"

"… You… named it?"

"I happen to do that with things that save my life." He defended savagely.

The Doctor was completely silent for a moment.

"… Right then. Captain Jack Harness? Alter the course; we have business to attend to."

Inside his head, Donald could hear Vee crow in triumph.

_Why are you so happy?_

_**Because my host; now he's going to attempt to discover our true origin. And **_**not**_** as he did before.**_

_Wait, what?_

_**All according to plan, my host. **_

_**All. According. To plan.**_

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" – And he's about _this _tall, with shaggy brown hair, brown eyes… no?" Rukia sighed and sat down on the pavement, rubbing her temples in aggravation. The school uniform she wore had quickly become dirty on the crowded London streets, despite her best attempts to remain dirt-free.

Oddly enough, Renji had managed to go the entire way without so much as a speck of dirt on him.

Mostly because Rukia was the one doing all the work.

"Would you quit _glaring_ at me like that? Look, asking people won't do me any good without a gigai!"

"Well, you could – you could… do _something!_" Rukia argued back, crossing her arms angrily. Passersby shot her strange looks as she apparently talked to herself.

"They all sound funny, anyway. What the hell are 'chips' for?" Renji asked. "Besides, we're obviously lost. This universe looks just like the last one. Let's just wait for the… the, uh… _flash-y thing_ to happen again and look somewhere else."

Rukia remained quiet for a moment, before turning to look up at the standing Renji.

"… _Flashy-thing_?" she asked, exasperated.

Renji shrugged in reply, the shihakusho rolling on his shoulders. The cloth of the robe looked strange in this dimension. Then again, _everything_ looked strange in this dimension. Donald had tried several times to explain the many forms of perception, but failed miserably when he discovered Renji's terrible attention span.

A bit like Danielle's really. So he should have been used to it by now.

Rukia sighed again, gripping her head as she felt a headache slowly form.

_Again._

"Look, Renji. We need to find Donald, and _quickly_. Whatever is manipulating him is obviousl- what was _that_?"

"What was what was what was what?" Renji asked confused.

"Shh!" she hushed him, cupping her ears to listen carefully. Somewhere nearby, the pair heard a sound unlike any other on the busy London street – a powerful whirring noise, fading in and out.

"Think we should check it out?" Renji asked. When Rukia remained silent and seated, he asked her again.

"… Hey. Whoo-hoo. Earth to Rukia. Do. You. Think. We. Should. Check. It. Out?"

"… I know that."

"Uh… what?" Renji inquired, scratching his head and locating the source of the noise as coming from the nearby belltower.

"I _know_ that sound. I've heard it somewhere – before. I just… I can't seem to remember properly."

"Are you sure?" he asked, starting off toward the noise.

"Proba- no. _Definitely._ I'm positive I've heard that noise somewhere before. Before all of this." She nodded (mostly to herself) and took off after Renji.

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_**If you want out of here alive, you need to follow my every order.**_

_You know, you could just say 'please' every once in a while._

_**Every. Order… my host.**_

_Yeah, yeah. Can you salvage your plan or not?_

_**Salvage? Oh, no. You misunderstand. Everything is going perfectly well.**_

"Whaddya mean?" Donald asked aloud, but quietly so that no one else would hear. He was getting sick of the mind-speak.

_**We're landing. Prepare for the reception. Also, plug your ears.**_

_Reception?_

The whirring of the TARDIS slowly stopped, and the Doctor flung open the doors to reveal the bell tower where Donald had begun construction on the sonic cannon.

Only to find a very small smiling Japanese woman with a very large gun.

Sonic, to be precise.

_BOOM._

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**Hope you enjoyed, everybody! More on the way.**


	32. Chapter 32: Liar, Liar, Paradox On Fire

**We're back, everybody! Here's the next chapter. I know, I know. I don't own SEGA or Bleach. I'd love to claim that I did, but it would require a few extra balls.**

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"Aaaaaaand… finished." Danielle said, clipping together the last few strands of electrical wires in the collapsible detector similar to the one Donald had built. Several small petri dishes that had held miniscule hair samples from Ichigo and the others lay empty on the kitchen table, scattered haphazardly about.

"That's _still_ creepy as hell," Ichigo said over Danielle's shoulder, eyeing the DNA samples warily. "I mean, how did he even _get_ any of my hair?"

"Knowing Donald, probably while you were sleeping."

Ichigo shuddered, backing away slightly. "Don't feel _too_ creeped out," Danielle said without looking away from her newest 'toy'. "I'm sure it was from a hairbrush or something. Be thankful he didn't ask for bodily fluid."

"How can you just discuss that kind of thing so casually?" Ichigo asked, slightly repulsed.

"Easy. 'Cause, _one_, I already knew Donald was gonna make a tracky-thingy that uses genetic codes n' stuff because he was talking about it before. And _b, _or _two_, I kind of lost track, I'm his older sister. I'm used to him doing his science stuff. Heh, I remember one time when I was seven," she rambled, cleaning up her mess. "He got _so_ frustrated when I wouldn't let him do a cat-scan with a colander on me that he hooked up some electrodes to Dad when he was sleeping and tried it on him instead."

"And it actually worked?" Ichigo asked, leaning against the counter.

"Pfft. _No._ Donald tried plugging it into a wall socket… They both got the _fuck_ shocked out of 'em. Funniest thing I've ever seen! Ha ha!"

Ichigo let a small smile show on his face. To be honest, he was still on the edge about this girl. Loud, obnoxious, talkative, mischievous, clever, and could be _brutally_ honest. She was… different. Though in many ways, she reminded him of his own sisters. He thought forlornly of his family trillions of miles away, and Donald's words came back to haunt him.

_Time line may be altered…_

_Could be hundreds, thousands of years into your future…_

_May never return…_

"Hey. Yoo-hoo. You even listenin', pretty boy?" Danielle asked, snapping her fingers in front of Ichigo's eyes.

"Huh? Yeah," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Just thinking."

"About?"

No patience, that girl.

"How depressing your brother is," Ichigo said with a grin, pushing himself away from the counter to stretch. "… Wait, pretty boy?"

"Got that right," Danielle agreed, checking her phone distractedly. "But he wasn't always like that."

"… No?" Ichigo asked, a little curious. Then again, it wasn't like he had a lot of other things to do.

"Well, he used to be really nice. This sweet little kid. At least until Mom passed away in that car accident. I think the main problem is that he blames himself so much," she said, not looking at Ichigo.

"Why would he blame himself?"

Danielle merely shrugged, refusing to look him in the eye.

The doorbell rang at that moment, and Danielle leapt up happily toward the door. "Whee! Save the sob stories for later, my hero is here!" she yelled gleefully, grabbing the door and yanking it open.

"It's about time, Wya- what the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Ichigo peered around the corner at the newcomer.

"What a way to greet your _hero_," the man said, stepping uninvited into the house out of the rain. He was around six and a half feet tall, with lanky, greasy looking black shoulder length hair. His long, crooked nose stuck out on his face, and looked as if it had been broken at least once. His eyes were black, like Danielle's, but unlike hers, his were beady, mean looking.

A permanent frown had etched itself onto his face, and his hunched shoulders gave him an angry, lurking appearance. The man's clothes were baggy and loose, and torn in many places.

"I didn't… really expect you, Ry."

"Well, I'm here anyway. I haven't checked on you brats in a while, figured I was due. Or late, whatever." He looked around at the living room for a moment before asking Danielle, "So… you twerps remodeling or somethin'?"

"Why do you ask?" Danielle replied curtly. It was apparent she had no great admiration for this man.

"Because there's a few fuckin' holes in the wall, that's why. Duh." He said bluntly, pointing to the numerous head shaped holes left by the Bleach crew (and Danielle).

He noticed Ichigo peering around the corner and gave a little wave. When Ichigo didn't wave back, it quickly changed into the universal eff-you bird sign, causing Ichigo's eyes to narrow dangerously.

"Oh, I, uh… suppose I should introduce-"

"I think he can talk for himself," the man interrupted Danielle rudely, pointing to Ichigo. "I mean, 'less he's mute. In which case… well, I got nothin'. Sucks to be you."

"I'm not mute," Ichigo said. "and you can call me Kurosaki. Fifteen." He refused to leave his place from the kitchen, however. Partially because he was still attempting to take in as much detail about this man as possible.

"Whatever," the lanky man said flippantly, waving him off. "I'm Ryan. Twerp and Twerpette's cousin. I check up on 'em sometimes, make sure they haven't burned anything down. _Again._" Ryan finished, whipping his head back angrily at Danielle.

She grinned sheepishly, holding up her hands in protest. "I said I was sorry…"

"Yeah, well, sorry don't cut it. I lost my _job_ over that shit."

"I thought you lost your job because you got caught putting sugar in your boss' gas tank?"

"Oh, yeah," Ryan said, scratching his hairy chin, thinking. "Forgot 'bout that. Heh. Lard ball deserved it."

So far, Ichigo couldn't find out just what Danielle couldn't stand about him. Sure, he was rude, but-

"So, speakin' of lard balls, where's your dad? Still in Hawaii?"

Danielle's eye twitched, and she replied slowly. "… Vegas."

"Damn, that was quick. Sure got over Crazy-Bitch, huh?"

"Don't you _dare_ insult my mother!" Danielle yelled at him, jabbing her finger at his face angrily.

Ah, _now_ Ichigo understood why she hated him.

Ryan glowered at her, not moving an inch. A small grin slowly came over his gaunt face, content in the fact that he was causing Danielle misery.

"Well, well, _someone's _a little touchy. Have you been taking Donald's meds again?"

"What?" she lurched back at the accusation. "No! Well, I mean- _no!_ Why don't you just _leave_ already?!" she yelled at him.

Ichigo had slowly been reaching for Kon in his pocket, ready to run Ryan through with Zangetsu, his zanpakuto should anything get out of hand.

"Because I need to talk to Donald," Ryan replied, brushing Danielle away as if nothing had happened. "He won't answer any calls, and he was supposed to. He knew I'd be coming over today," he lied, a small smile sneaking back onto his face.

"… You're almost as bad at lying as Donald is," Danielle said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, well, fuck you, Analytical-Junior. I gotta talk to him anyway."

"Why?" Danielle asked, trying to move things along and get him to leave.

"Hell, I dunno. I just got a weird text from him, saying he was in a box with a doctor. Now, I'm not dissin' any of his weird ass fetishes he has," Ryan said, holding up his hands and pulling out a cigarette simultaneously, "but I have to admit, when he says 'help me' I try to do the best I can."

"Donald asked you for help?" Danielle asked, suddenly curious. "How is that even possible?"

"He used a phone, ass-hat. It's not that ha-… what do you mean, possible?" Ryan inquired, suddenly suspicious. His beady eyes turned toward Ichigo suddenly, poring over him hungrily. This man reminded him of a wild animal.

"Well? You, Chinese kid."

"I'm Japanese," Ichigo retorted immediately.

"He's… a foreign exchange student," Danielle said quickly, "from Japan."

"Oh, you don't say," Ryan said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Then why is he here?"

Danielle opened her mouth to answer, but Ryan held up his and toward her face. "No, no. Wrong question. Japanese kid; are you here against your will?"

Ichigo remained silent for a moment, then shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"Ha! Knew it," Ryan cheered, doing a fist pump.

"What? _Ichigo!_" Danielle exclaimed.

"Well, I am!" he replied angrily. "I don't want to be here – I just want to go home!"

"Well, then why don't you?" Ryan asked.

"Because it's against policy!" Danielle shouted nervously. "Against the… the, um, policy for the exchange student… thing!"

Ryan cocked an eyebrow at Danielle, and for a moment, it looked as if his whole face were laughing at her.

"You're… almost as bad at lying as Donald is," he said with a smirk. "And you _still_ never told me where he's at. Unless, of course," he said, examining his fingernails closely, "you're going to try to convince me that Donald was in the foreign exchange program and _this_ shmuck is his replacement." He said, jabbing a thumb at Ichigo.

_Shmuck? 'The hell is a shmuck?_

"… and what if he is?" Danielle said, furrowing her brows.

"So, he sent me a text begging for help, and he couldn't do anything because he's in Japan?"

"… Maybe."

"Which is weird, because he told me he was in England. You know, with the doctor and the box."

Danielle paused for a moment, and turned back to Ryan, gears whirring in her head.

_England? Doctor? Box? Oh, you have _got_ to be shitting me._

"No, no I'm not." Ryan said, picking at a scab on his ear. "And you said that out loud."

_Dammit!_

"That one, too."

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(WPOV)

As I gather some of my stuff in a small backpack, I check my teleporter again.

_Still nothing…_

_That's because that world is sealed away from us,_ Blaze's voice echoes in my head. _Man_, that telepathy is handy. _Although we've made some recent discoveries._

_Like what?_ I ask, packing in a spare change of clothes with some rope, a grappling hook, and a waterproof flashlight.

_As in, we know precisely why we couldn't locate you before._

_Ah, so there _was_ something wrong with the phone… teleporter… thingy?_

I hear Blaze sigh at my terrible descriptive prowess before she continues.

_No, actually. It was working fine. No malfunctions, no bugs… we even asked Anti to do a few sweeps, and it was all clean as a whistle._

_So then what was wrong?_ I ask, slipping the pack onto my shoulders.

_You can still get to that world, just nowhere nearby where you landed._

_Eh?_

_Something was blocking us out._

_What do you mean, blocking us out?_

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"Yo, _Donni_!" Ryan yelled as loudly as he could, stomping up the stairs. "You're weird-ass sister kidnapped another foreign kid!"

"Another?" Ichigo asked Danielle, climbing the stairs behind her.

"That was a _huge_ misunderstanding," she replied quickly. "I honestly had no idea he was with those ostriches. God help the airport security for _that_ little episode."

"That… didn't answer anything," Ichigo said.

"Hold up!" Danielle shouted, chasing after Ryan, who was making a beeline straight for Donald's room.

Correction; making a beeline straight for Donald's room, who's door was _still open_ and quite clearly unlocked.

"Er, you should stay out of there!" Danielle said nervously, dancing back and forth from foot to foot.

Ryan, spurred on by her quite blatant attempts at keeping him out, stepped into Donald's room swiftly.

"… Huh. Still looks like an office. What a shocker," Ryan said, looking about in disdain and pulling out his phone.

"Oh, come on! He really won't like it if you're in here!" she said, trying to get him out. And, more importantly, away from the safe. If she had any idea what he was actually doing, she'd probably have been a lot more nervous.

"Oh, shut the hell up." Ryan said, waving her away. "Of course he wants me in here."

"That's ridiculous!" Ichigo said, finally speaking up. "Prove it!" he demanded.

Ryan turned back at him, and blinked. "Oh, I get it. You think I'm lying. Probably so I can get to Donald's safe or somethin'."

"You know about his safe?"

"Who do you think got it for him?" Ryan replied, showing Danielle his phone text. "Look – I gotta find a book. I don't know why, he just doesn't want you to know." He confessed, putting his cellphone back into his pocket.

"… What doesn't he want me to know? What book?"

"How the hell should _I_ know?" Ryan said agitatedly, fingers flying over the tidy bookshelf. He pulled one book off the shelf, one after another, throwing them around the room behind him.

"Stop that!" Danielle said in protest. She had nothing against making a mess, but if Donald wasn't there to clean it up, then who would? Oh, and it was an invasion of personal space. That too.

One of the books, however, was wedged tightly between two others. Ryan peeled at it with his fingertips, but to no avail. "… 'Dafuq?" he said, scratching his head. "Is this screwed down, or so- _whoa_." He exclaimed, the book suddenly popping out from its groove between the other two. It had been camouflaged well, but not well enough, apparently. A quiet, pneumatic _hiss_ issued out from behind the bookshelf, and it slowly slid sideways, revealing a narrow passage into a large, dark room.

"… Okay, _that's _new." Danielle said, eyes wide. "How did he even… this is _upstairs._ How did he find the room?"

Ryan grinned in triumph, placing his arms behind his head and stretching. "Well, well, well. I suppose it's about time we find out just what Donald wanted me to keep you away from. Japanese kid?"

Ichigo's head snapped up, listening carefully. "My name is Ichigo." He said.

"Yeah, I care about as much as I do about Danielle's imaginary friends."

"Oh, come _on!_ I was what, _four_?" Ryan brushed her away, gesturing into the darkened room.

"Today's you're lucky day. After you."

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Rukia was knocked back quite a bit with the use of the small sonic cannon. She wasn't expecting that large of a kick. After watching the blue police box materialize out of nowhere, she grabbed the cannon and pointed it directly at the door in case of danger, Renji close behind. It had startled her, however, when the doors flung open revealing a well-dressed man glaring out at them.

And a ragged, beaten down looking Donald handcuffed to a steel bar behind him.

The decision had been split-second; pull the trigger, get to Donald. However, she blast had not only knocked the Doctor back several meters, but as a result, Donald was blasted backwards.

And still attached (quite firmly) to the steel bar.

He slowly dragged himself upwards, the pain in his arm intense. He looked down to find his arm jutting outwards at an odd angle, and hot liquid ran down over his eye.

_**Be still, my host. This will only hurt for- well, actually it's going to hurt a lot.**_

_It already hurts!_

Donald watched a thin stream of black liquid ran down is forearm and along his wrist. With a yank, he felt his bones being wrenched back into place, and simultaneously out of the handcuffs.

On one hand, he was out of the cuffs.

On the other, he was now writhing in immense pain.

_Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow! Jesus!_

_**Would you have preferred to remain captive, my host?**_ Vee asked smugly. _**Now, if you don't mind, I think it's time we went on a little trip.**_

Donald felt Vee take control of his limbs again, though with as much pain as he was in, he really didn't mind.

Oh, it disturbed him, all right. But he was a little more focused on ignoring the blinding pain instead. It was rather strange, watching as the mysterious black liquid slowly patch over torn flesh and heal it as if nothing had ever been there.

Rukia was rather taken aback when she realized that she had accidentally blasted Donald, and quickly dropped the cannon.

_**You know, I'm amazed at my own handiwork. That thing really shouldn't have even been able to activate without backfiring.**_

… _You were _planning_ on it exploding on me?_

_**Hmm? Oh, no, certainly not, my host, **_Vee said quietly, backflipping up near the TARDIS controls and side kicking Jack Harness out of the way with utmost ease. _**Now, in case you hadn't noticed-**_

_Stop hurting people!_ Donald screamed inside his head as Vee landed a very precise punch to the stomach of Rose Tyler and flipped her over the ledge.

_**IN CASE YOU HADN'T NOTICED,**_ Vee continued loudly without a care as he fiddled with numerous levers and dials, _**we (as in the two of us) are being forced to teleport along with the soul reapers. They aren't just teleporting – they are **_**leaping**_**, and in a circular pattern. There are only a couple more leaps to go until they wind up in the precise location where they began from, thus restarting the process.**_

_What does that have to do with anything?_ Donald asked as he watched Vee fire up the TARDIS while Renji and Rukia dodged inside.

_**It's quite simple. They will go to the precise location where they began. As in, precise moment in **_**time.**

… _Oh, my god._ Donald thought in shock. _That means…_

_**Correct. Everything I do, I do for your sake, my host.**_

Donald knew _exactly_ what Vee was doing. Preventing them all from being trapped in an infinite loop.

But the only way to accomplish that would be through…

_**A paradox, yes, my host.**_

_But… that could rend a hole in space-time continuum!_

… _**Someone's been watching **_**Back To The Future**_** too many times,**_ Vee said, with a 'smile'. If he could smile.

Donald relaxed slightly, or at least until Vee spoke again as the TARDIS launched itself through the universe.

_**But, seriously, though. We may accidentally destroy all of existence in order to pull this off **_**and**_** locate the proper Doctor to extract my vengeance. Que Cera, cera.**_

_That's _it?Donald thought as Vee explained the majority of his plan to him through flashing images. _THAT'S you're plan? You're… actually, that just might work._

_**I thought you might agree, my host.**_ Vee thought cheerfully. _**So, what do you say?**_

The Doctor had regained his composure in the few seconds it had taken Donald (Vee) to commandeer the TARDIS, and was helping Rose to her feet whilst Rukia backed away nervously, Renji nearby.

_**Come with me, my host.**_

Out of the corner of his eye, Donald saw a long, slender hand place itself gently on his shoulder.

_**Let's go to the end of the universe.**_

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**Hope you enjoyed, everybody! More's on the way. When I can manage, any-who.**

**Heh heh heh. **_**Who**_**.**


	33. Chapter 33: Mean Green Tracking Machine

**Back online, and kicking it! I'm hip. Uh, dog.**

**Danielle: … Don't you **_**ever**_** do that again.**

… '**Kay.**

**Here's the next chapter of what I wish were entertaining!**

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_Okay, so… you're a sword._

_**In essence, yes, I suppose you could call me that. However, I am much more than that.**_

_Do you double as an umbrella?_

_**Well, no, but-**_

_Then I don't give two shits._ Grimmjow thought grumpily, brushing his soggy wet blue hair out of his face. He was hating this world more and more as the rain continued to pour.

The voice, or _Pantera,_ as it had requested to be called, fell silent as Grimmjow stumbled about in the rain. It was cold, he was wet, and he couldn't see any further than a few feet in front of him. In effect, he was almost as miserable as he was near Danielle.

Almost.

He continued about like this for quite some while, before he noticed something rather annoying.

The hole in his stomach had begun to collect water.

He shook himself furiously, managing to drain most of the water, but to no avail. More rain would simply drip down him and he collected water all over again.

_**You should look on the bright side more often… you know, I'm a Grimmjow half-full kind of zanpakuto.**_

_Ha, fuckin', ha._

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(WPOV)

"Okay… explain it one more time."

The two tailed tan fox in front of me groaned in disgust, slamming his tiny head against the computer controls in front of him.

_Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham._

"Uh… Tails?"

_Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham_

"Look, seriously. I'm tryin' really hard to understand," I say to him, really trying to wrap my head around it. "Just explain it to me, last time. I promise. I'm just not a super genius, is all."

Tails pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and gestured to the diagrams on the screens in front of him. As he'd been trying to do for the past _hour_.

Bite me, I'm stupid.

"_Pay attention,_" he said, exasperation evident in his voice. "Whatever world you were in before wasn't just blocked off from us, it was blocked off from _everyone._ And not the entire planet, either. Only a small section of estate. More specifically, your original landing place, which we've managed to track _here_," he said, rapidly bringing up more diagrams. "Someone was preventing this location from being revealed, and we don't know why."

"So," I say slowly, "I really can go back there?" I think quickly, mostly about the insane pair of twins (and the glitter-gravy. Bluuuugh.)

"Yeah, but that's not all," Tails says, closing the screens and turning around in his swivel chair to face me. "Whatever has been blocking signal to that planet in particular is gone."

"You mean, like, faded or something?" I ask, confused. I don't know what could have been shrouding the place, but…

"No, I mean that it was something sudden. Like a switch was thrown – and if we don't do something quickly, -"

"Hang on, you're getting that look again," I say, stopping him by holding my hand up. I'm really not good with the long winded explanations that don't make sense to anyone who isn't computer-literate anyway. "Explain it to me in as few words as possible. _Small_ words, ideally."

He paused for a moment, folding his hands solemnly in his lap.

"Bad things will happen."

Too small. "How bad?"

"We are all going to die."

_Yikes. Maybe I'll see about helping Danielle after all._

"Horribly."

_Double yikes. _

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Ichigo stepped into the darkened room carefully, slowly letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He was certain to check his footing – he'd been fooled by Urahara's traps before, and _that_ had not ended well. Inching his was along the wall, Ichigo slipped his hand along, feeling nothing but cold steel. Behind him, Ryan silently urged him forward, with Danielle poking her head concernedly from around the corner.

Eventually, Ichigo felt a small switch on the wall, and flipped it. Light immediately flooded the room, and Ichigo found that he could see.

It sure as hell wasn't a light switch, but he could see, all right.

A large, humming green mechanism sat in the center of the hidden room, brought to life by the switch. Several screens and panels adorned it, interconnecting wires and chips seemingly at random. A quiet humming echoed from somewhere nearby, and several flat screens lining the wall whirred to life, flashing brightly. Some screens showed the local (and sometimes foreign) news stations, all of which were current and up to date. Others depicted slowly scrolling images of undecipherable text and bizarre illustrations and blueprints of machines and devices.

One of which looked remarkably similar to the collapsible 'soul reaper detector' strapped to Danielle's back.

"… Holy _shit,_ dude." Ryan breathed, eyes widening under his shaggy black hair.

Danielle whistled in admiration, while Ichigo looked about, speculating.

"Gotta admit, Donni," Danielle said to no one in particular. "I've done some DIY stuff before, and it was freakin' _loud_. It took some serious work ta' pull this off right underneath my nose."

"You aren't exactly attentive," Ichigo said, looking back at her as she poked around the large machine in the center of the black and white tiled floor.

"Okay, if you lovebirds are finished," Ryan said, stamping out his cigarette on Donald's neatly polished floor, "there's still the matter of why Neat-Freak wanted me here in the first place."

Danielle shrugged in reply, and Ryan scratched his head in irritation.

"Look," he said, pulling his phone back out and re-examining the plea for help. "I dunno what he wants me to do here. I just know he needs help, and then the message stops." Ryan kicked the large machine angrily, as if expecting it to perform some miracle.

Which it did, coincidentally. Mostly because Danielle had jabbed a random button on the opposite side.

"… Huh. Didn't think that'd actually work," Ryan admitted, backing away slightly as it emitted a high pitched whine. After a moment, several tubes ejected themselves from the machine, one after another, each sliding out with a quiet pneumatic hiss.

All of which were filled with random assortments of hair, skin samples, or bodily fluid.

Sometimes all three.

After another moment, every single tube forcefully ejected itself from the machine except for one, jutting out forlornly from the side.

Danielle's eyes widened, and she thought quickly.

"… I think I know what this is," Danielle said quietly. "And I know how he was able to make a tracking device so quickly."

"So, he wants us to find him?" Ryan asked quizzically, leaning against the wall. "How are we supposed to do that?"

"Well," Danielle said carefully, pulling the makeshift detector off her back and inspecting it carefully. "It's supposed to work by following genetic codes, but…"

"But what?" Ichigo asked impatiently, ready to get out of the secret room. It reminded him a little too much of Captain Kurotsuchi's laboratory.

"Why does it need to be so… _large_? The other one worked fine, I think… unless, that's not all this is for."

Danielle worked it through furiously in her head, attempting to follow Donald's potential train of thought.

_Works by emitting electromagnetic pulses… that can't be all. Definitely not,_ she thought to herself, and flipping several levers on the side.

The scrolling texts on the wall screens suddenly dropped, and a new message appeared.

**Initiate YANA sequence? Y/N.**

After a moment's pause, Danielle looked around for a keyboard. After finding nothing and re-flipping the switches to no avail, Danielle tried something new.

"Sure, why not."

The message dropped from the screen, only to be replaced by a new one.

**Deposit genetic material.**

"Okay," Danielle said. "Anybody have a few spare vials of Donald's blood lying around?"

Ichigo cocked an eyebrow, and Ryan searched the room carefully. After several moments, he motioned to the others as he opened up a small refrigerator filled with, surprise, surprise, blood samples.

"Damn, that's actually a little creepier than I expected." Danielle said, rubbing her arms.

"How?" Ichigo asked suddenly. "Can't be any creepier than any other stuff your brother's done."

"Yeah, but, but…" Danielle protested. "Blood's supposed to stay _in your body_. Eeeeh-iii-eeew."

Ryan groaned, and kneeled down, tapping each vial and peering carefully at the labels. "Lemme see… Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. N- hey, I know that guy. Nope. Nope. Nyu-uh." The storage unit held no vials of Donald's DNA, whatsoever.

"Fantastic," Danielle said, rubbing her eyes wearily. She could still hear the beat of the rainstorm outside, though it was much quieter in here. She briefly pondered on how Grimmjow was faring, and a flash of guilt overcame her, before she pushed it away.

"So… now what?" Ryan asked. "… Can I go fuckin' home now? I think I'd like to start repression any time, now."

"You have no idea," Ichigo said to him, grinning. After seeing the downcast look on Danielle, however, he immediately placed his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting fashion.

"We'll find him," he said reassuringly. "We just need his DNA, right?"

"Yeah," Danielle sighed wearily, sitting down next to the machine, vial still projecting itself out expectingly. "Too bad Donald always makes sure he's so clean… I don't think a single fingerprint will cut it. Maybe if he didn't clean his hairbrushes constantly, or – holy shit, I got it!" she proclaimed in elation, leaping up.

"What, what?" Ryan said, wary of the sudden movement.

Seriously, maybe she's bipolar.

"I just need a sample of Donald's genetic code!"

"Yeah, and?" Ichigo asked, confused.

"We're _twins!_"

Ryan remained silent for a moment, pulling another cigarette from within his damp jacket. "You really think that'll work?" he asked, setting it carefully betwixt his lips before lighting it with a small silver lighter.

"Not a clue," Danielle replied happily, plucking a hair from her head and swiftly placing it into the vial. It must have been motion activated, because it whipped inside and the machine began flashing brightly, whirring louder and louder. After a moment, however, it began to slow, a loud, dragging sound yanking around inside.

"… Oh, no…" Danielle muttered in despair, pulling lightly at her hair.

_Please, oh, please work…_

The machine whirred louder and louder, until a heavy grinding noise clanked inside. The machine was almost at a complete halt, before Danielle whipped out her phone as a last ditch attempt.

"Seriously?" Ichigo asked. He could not, for the life of him, figure out what it was with teenagers and cellphones.

Danielle ignored him, shouting into the phone. "NOW! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE, DO IT NOW!"

Wondering who the hell she could be talking to, Ichigo thought it a good plan to slowly back away.

This proved to be a very, very good idea, because at that moment, a flash of orange lit up the center of the room, alighting from just above the machine and revealing a rather tall, red anthropomorphic cat.

"Wyatt!" Danielle shrieked in glee, latching onto his leg in joy.

"Agh! I get it, I get it, but we've gotta hurry!" he said, leaping down. The portal behind him stayed open, and he heaved out several wires from even more machines, a small two-tailed fox trailing along behind him.

"… Oh my god, you are so adorable." Danielle said to him. Ichigo could have sworn he saw the fox blush underneath all that fur.

"No time!" it shouted, directing Wyatt where to insert the different devices into Donald's machine.

"How are you so prepared for this?" Danielle asked Wyatt curiously, and he responded with a wink. "Because now we know what's been causing problems. I'm a freakin' hero – I fix problems _every day._"

Danielle rolled her eyes as Tails leapt back into the portal, awaiting signals from other unseen people.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Danielle asked. Wyatt shrugged, saying "Not a clue. It was either this or watch the universe end. Besides, I ran out of chips on the beach."

"Throw the switch!" Danielle heard through the portal, and massive volts of power whipped wildly through the many cords attached to the green machine.

Upon which, approximately everything shut down, and the world went dark.

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**More on the way, let me know what you think!**


	34. Chapter 34: In the Dark

**Well, everyone, some of you have only recently been introduced to this story.**

**Some of you have stuck with me since the very beginning.**

**No matter who you are, thank you for reading.**

**Now…**

**Let's end this b*tch.**

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Rose Tyler groaned as she pushed herself up from the floor of the TARDIS and shifted weight onto her elbows. That little brat had hurt her – not once, but _twice_, now. And it was getting really old, really quickly. To her side, she could see Jack stumbling back to his feet, albeit a little more slowly. The runt really packed a punch.

Probably because whatever was using his brain as a remote control was making him hit harder. Or something.

She saw her chance, however, as Donald was distracted by the controls of the time machine and talking to himself simultaneously. Oddly enough, he was sweating profusely, brown eyes flickering back and forth across the controls as he whipped them around wildly, but precisely.

Like he'd done this before.

She heaved herself to her feet and attempted to rush him, in order to knock him away from the machine and hold him back until the Doctor could recuperate enough to… undo whatever the hell Donald was doing. She dropped immediately though, in mid run, as a massive jolt ran through the TARDIS.

Donald's hands yanked away from the controls, and she watched as his breathing automatically became faster and heavier.

"What do you think you're _doing?!_" she yelled at him, struggling to regain her balance as another quake shook the TARDIS.

The only reply she received from the small boy, however, was a pause and a small shake of his head as he returned to the controls as quickly as he could. It took her a moment to realize it before realization hit her (almost as hard as Donald's stomach punch).

He wasn't just nervous.

He was panicking.

And he went from looking panicked to downright _terrified_ when the TARDIS let off an immense rumble, and came to a rather immediate halt.

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"… Fuck." Danielle whispered exasperatedly in the dark. Though, with the sudden lack of machine buzz and the general silence due to anticipation, it was heard quite clearly by everyone.

The only light emanated from the faintly glowing orange portal floating in a melancholy manner in mid-air, as Wyatt poked his head back through.

"I don't get it," he said. "That should have found him. I mean, what could possibly be tougher than Tails' personal supercomputer?" Wyatt scratched lightly behind his own ear with one of his retractable claws, wondering.

Ryan was still standing against the wall, desperately trying to take it all in. His eyes had widened considerably upon discovering the laboratory, but this… this was fucking _insane._ Donald was hiding the fact that he'd been tampering in multi-dimensional signal blocking, Danielle was harboring an interdimensional teenager, talking anthropomorphic animals were helping them and absolutely nothing made any damn sense any more.

He was beginning to get a headache. And it didn't help that he'd dropped his last cigarette on the linoleum in the confusion, either. He stretched down quickly to snatch it back up, and resettled himself against the wall.

Hopefully to fade into it so that everybody else would forget he existed so that he could go home.

Hell, or maybe stop by the children's hospital.

Not to visit kids, naturally. He _hated_ children. He only wanted to see if the pretty receptionist Regina was working.

Unfortunately for Ryan, nobody wanted to ignore him today.

"Hey, Ry," Danielle said, waving at him. "try toggling the light switch."

Everyone else fell silent for a moment. A few cinders fell from the end of Ryan's cigarette, sitting lightly on the end of his lips precariously.

"… What?" she asked curiously as Ichigo shook his head.

"… _What_?"

Ryan began laughing hysterically, clutching his stomach as he did so. Danielle could hear Wyatt snickering on the other side of the glowing portal.

"… _WHAT?"_

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_Vee, or Voice, or parasite, or _whatever._ Please, PLEASE tell me this will work._

_**Okay. This will work.**_

… _You didn't sound very sincere,_ Donald thought nervously as he followed Vee's instructions on piloting the TARDIS. _And how do you even know how this thing works, anyway? I don't even think we're moving!_

_**The controls are fairly simplistic. You're just too ignorant to understand.**_

_Fuck you, too._

The conversation between the two managed to calm Donald's nerves slightly, which was a massive relief. It was more absentminded banter than anything, but he was still terrified. Especially considering just what was at stake here.

_And after we escape the loop?_ He asked.

_**Then we accelerate into the nexus of the Doctor's time stream and **_**execute**_** the filthy stinking bastard before he can try to kill me.**_

… _I see. Kill him, before he kills you?_

_**Precisely.**_

Donald immediately stopped piloting the TARDIS, relinquishing the controls as he backed away slowly, placing his hands in his pockets.

… _**My host?**_

Donald motioned to Renji and Rukia with a small nod to acknowledge their arrival, which he had so dismally failed at before (being blasted across the room can do that to you).

… _**My host? What are you doing?**_

After which, he tilted his head up at the ceiling and spoke directly to Vee.

"… No."

… _**What?**_

"I said, _no._" Donald reiterated solemnly. "There has to be another way – something, _anything_ aside from what you're planning."

Vee paused for a moment, and Donald thought he was reconsidering his plan. Instead, he felt Vee coil in rage, an enormous tide of fury held back only by sheer will as he answered.

_**WHAT?!**_

"This has gone on long enough. I'm all for going home, but not at the cost of murdering someo- hhrk!"

The 'hhrk' caused by the suddenly violent constriction of Donald's windpipe. He clutched uselessly at his throat, gasping for air as he watched his feet slowly rise up off the ground until Donald was levitating a full foot off the floor.

_**How DARE you disobey me! **_**ME!** he roared at Donald, the voice bursting inside his head. Donald's vision swam as he flailed for oxygen.

_Let- let go!_

_**OF ALL PEOPLE! ME!**_ Vee continued, ignoring him. _**I, who saved you. I, who altered your potential so that you could avoid even fate itself! I, who wield the very VOID, and yet still you challenge **_**ME**_**?!**_

Rukia, seeing Donald being drawn away from the controls, darted toward them in attempt to plunge her zanpakuto into it. Vee noticed her from the corner of Donald's eye, and backhanded her heavily, knocking her away.

_Will you STOP hurting people!_

_**Defy me? I'll won't just crush you, host – not just yet. I'll **_**break**_** you.**_

Donald felt Vee's presence slowly growing… _larger._ Spindly, ghostly hands whipped out from the surroundings. Encompassing his thoughts, swarming around him until he was totally enveloped within shadow. His vision went black, and once again he found himself inside the twisted forest.

It was rather odd, feeling his knees hit the soggy ground, knowing that it was all inside his head. The fog had risen several feet, and the trees were creaking and groaning as they swayed in what Donald thought was wind. Until he realized that each and every tree was slowly encroaching around him, blotting out his vision. He could still see the thin, slender image of Vee slipping in and out among the trees, seemingly at random.

Donald whipped his head around and around, trying desperately to follow him. His breathing came faster, shorter, but he refused to run.

Refusing to give in without a fight, Donald shouted into the trees, "So, I guess this is why they warn you about erotic asphyxiation, eh?" much braver than he felt.

As the trees slowly closed in over him and Donald's vision within the Forest of Fog began to dim as well, against all sense of reason, Donald closed his eyes.

And let slip a small, satisfactory grin.

For some reason, Vee was rather surprised when the entire black forest ripped itself apart.

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The high pitched noise of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver greeted Rukia as Renji helped her to her feet protectively. He shot an angry glare at Donald (Vee), who was by now floating nearly six feet in the air. His arms were spread eagle, dangling as if he'd been crucified in midair. His clothes and hair were moving briskly in an invisible wind, flapping quietly. Most disconcerting, however, was the fact that his eyes had been coated by a filmy black liquid, covering them with a wicked looking gloss.

All in all, excessively attention grabbing and dramatic.

Which is so _very_ much what Donald would be doing anyway, if he had a choice.

Since he didn't seem to be coming back down anytime soon (though she was pretty certain Renji would make sure he was dead before he hit the floor,) Rukia peered inquisitively at the source of the noise.

"What are you doing?" she asked the Doctor as he ran a hand through his short hair in agitation.

"_Pfffft. _Fan-_tastic_. What am I doing?" he asked, turning to her. "In _my_ TARDIS,with _my_ sonic screwdriver, with _my_ companions? Nothin'."

"… Wha-?"

"_Nothin'!_" the Doctor exclaimed angrily, running to the double doors and flinging them wide open. "Nothing, _anywhere!_"

And outside was exactly that.

Nothing.

"… So…. It's really dark?" Rose Tyler asked him.

"I don't know how, but he sent us… somewhere _else._ We're not just looking at _dark,_ Rose. We're looking at _the _dark. As in, _nothing._"

"But," Jack said, staring out. "but that's impossible! How can there just be the _end_ of time?"

"Exactly," the Doctor replied, whipping his sonic screwdriver back out and running it uselessly over the now unresponsive TARDIS controls. "We _can't_ be looking at the end of time itself, and I have _seen_ the end of time itself. Not except in passing, and th- wait."

He backed away for a moment, thinking furiously. "Wait. Wait. _Wait…_. Oh. Oh! OH! FANTASTIC!" he yelled ecstatically, throwing his arms up in victory. "We should be dead!"

It was silent for a moment, except for the quiet sound of Donald flapping in the nonexistent breeze.

Man, that sounded weird.

"Uh, not to be a buzzkill, doc, but I think you said that a little too happily," Jack said pointedly.

"No, we should be _dead!_"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time-"

"No, no no!" the Doctor replied exuberantly. By all accounts, we should be dead. By all accounts, we can't even _move._"

"Then why the hell are you so happy?" Renji asked the Doctor, speaking up.

"Because we're doin' it anyway!" he replied happily, tucking away his sonic screwdriver. "And the only way that's possible is if someone has acquired a firm lock on the ship, and anyone who can do _that_ with such short notice-"

"Probably knows about Punchy-Mc-Floaty Pants!" Jack finished, grinning.

"… Punchy-Mc-Floaty Pants?" Rose asked sarcastically.

"Well, since he flipped me over the ledge, I was gonna call him 'Sir Flips-me-off-too-much' but it sounded a little long winded."

Donald, forgotten for the moment, promptly dropped out of the air and landed with a loud _flump!_ onto the floor, facedown.

"…. Oh, he's dead, isn't he." The Doctor said a little sadly, a statement more than a question.

"Speaking of _dead_," Renji interrupted, "how the _fuck_ can you see me?"

"… Er, sorry, what?"

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Donald floated for what seemed like forever in a dark abyss, trailing along without direction. The darkness encompassed him, blinded him. He couldn't decide whether it felt more like flying or falling. For once, he felt very, very alone.

_**Oh, now look at what you've done…**_

_Vee?_ He asked. _Is that you?_

_**Honestly, my host. Who else would it be?**_

_What did you _do_ to this place?_

_**Me? What did **_**I**_** do? This is **_**your**_** fault entirely, you bumbling idiot!**_ Vee raged at him, the voice echoing from everywhere at once.

_What? I didn't do anything!_ Donald protested. _This is YOUR fault for trying to use me as a puppet!_

_**I was **_**helping!**

_Oh, is that what you call it?_ He replied dryly. _Here in reality, we call it _mind control_. Prick._

The void around him shook, as if a tremor had run through the vacuum.

_**Incompetent moron! You think that little patch of shrubbery you were wallowing in was preferable to what **_**I**_** could have offered you?**_

_What do you mean?_ Donald asked suspiciously, though quick to answer. He wasn't particularly looking forward to being trapped here forever.

_**The human mind is SO much more complex than that. When I found you and rooted myself within your being, that little shred is all that was left of your soul.**_

_You mean…_

_**That was all that was left of your very sanity. And in a fit of anger, you **_**obliterated **_**it!**_

_I…_ Donald began hesitantly. _I was… fighting back?_

_**I INSISTED ON TOTAL CONTROL FOR A REASON!**_ Vee yelled, and Donald could swear he felt those long, spindly fingers reaching for him from somewhere in the dark. Suddenly, being alone seemed much more appealing.

_**After taking root, what was left of you simply wouldn't be able to handle the strain of my possession. As is the case, generally. However, I insisted on control in order to spare you the suffering of having your mind obliterated!**_

_So… I'm dead?_

_**If you're not already, my host, I'm going to kill you.**_

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**Sorry this one took so long, folks. Been out of commission for a little while, but I'm back with a vengeance like a bad sequel!**


	35. Chapter 35: What's In The Box?

**Howdy-doo, everybody! I'm back for more. But before that, a couple of things occurred to me (that I don't know if I've mentioned somewhere before).**

**Firstly, I honestly didn't expect the story to take this kind of (or this many) turn(s). And secondly, I've noticed that I'm writing a **_**whole**_** lot more than I expected to on Donald's point of view. Especially considering the fact that it was originally only Danielle who was intended to be the main character. It's kind of weird. I didn't think Donald would slowly develop into this… **_**reluctant**_** antagonist, but I'm on the fence about the antagonist part.**

**And, finally, believe it or not, there really is a plot.**

**A very buried, twisted, and convoluted plot, but a plot nonetheless.**

**And we'll get to it eventually! Tally-ho!**

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"Oki-doki-loki, then – going for round two!" Danielle said as the machinery slowly chugged back to life, power being funneled in from wires through the portal.

Two main problems arose whenever the system malfunctioned. Firstly, everything stopped working. As was quite obvious by the total lack of anything doing… well, _anything._

Secondly, shortly afterwards, a very loud, dull _thunk!_ resounded throughout the house, eventually slipping into the hidden room.

Ryan was the first to poke his head out, suspiciously peering around to discover the source of the noise.

"Hey… you guys hear that?" he asked, his lanky frame standing out in the doorway.

"Wait… I thought _you_ guys did that?" Wyatt said, leaning partially out of the open portal.

"Er-_hem,_" Tails said on the other side, tapping an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Tick, tock, tick, tock. We're on a tight schedule, here," he said nervously, trying to hurry the process along. "We only have a certain time limit on how long we can keep this portal open, you know."

"How come?" Danielle asked curiously, setting down the heavy electrical wires.

"It's not quite as simple as holding a hole open in the fabric of space," he said, scratching the back of his head. "It requires _massive_ amounts of energy just to open a rift in the first place, let alone the continuous stream necessary to retain a stable-"

"Okay, okay, don't go Donald on me," Danielle said, holding up a hand. "I get enough long-winded explanations as it is."

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM _NOT_ LONG-WINDED!"

"Fuck it, 'Imma check it out." Ryan muttered, brushing a strand of greasy hair out of his face and slinking away downstairs. "Er, I don't think-" Wyatt began, poking his head out of the portal, only to be greeted by Ryan giving him the middle finger as he walked away.

"…"

"He, uh, does that sometimes," Danielle said apologetically.

"Jesus, what an asshat."

"Almost got it…!" Tails said excitedly from his laboratory, prancing back and forth while observing strings of data being slowly collected from the machine in the secret room.

"And then we can track down Donald and the Bleachies, and I can be once again reunited with my beloved Grimm-Kitty!" Danielle finished.

"Yeah…" Ichigo began. "I don't think he's, you know… coming back."

"Whaaaa-?" Danielle lurched in shock. "But…. But _why_?"

"Probably 'cause you're crazy as _fuck_," Wyatt said from beyond the portal.

"Watch it, fluffy!" Danielle yelled into the glowing door over the wires. "If you think _I'm_ crazy, just wait until your lady friend sees all the photos of us on the beach!"

"… We didn't _go_ to a beach." Wyatt stated.

"I think it's about time you met my good, dear friend, mister Photoshop." Danielle replied, deftly whipping a small photograph out of her back pocket, it's back facing him. "And I really don't think she's ever even _heard_ of Photoshop, really. Meaning it's even easier for an 'Anonymous Sender' to expose your many, many lies! Like the snowmen tea-party, helicopter rides, and Disney Land!"

"But, but, but-" Wyatt stuttered. "It's lies! It's all _lies_!"

"But you can't _disprove _it, so I suggest you play nice." Danielle said, tucking the picture back into her pocket safely.

Tails, who had been listening to the entire ordeal while waiting on the data transfer to complete, remarked rather quietly, "Damn. She _is_ evil."

"… You know, fluffy, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were telling others about what kind of a person I am."

"What kind of person who is?" Blaze, the violet cat asked, her face appearing in the portal.

"Evil! Pure ev-"

"Photoshop."

Wyatt immediately stopped talking and slid his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion, glaring at Danielle simultaneously.

Blaze stood very still for several moments, just observing, before saying "You know, I _can_ read his mind."

"Fuck!"

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Ryan slowly slipped down the stairs, cautiously taking inventory of the destruction.

For as bad as the place looked before, at least the majority of it had been patched up. That, and a big ass blue box hadn't been _jutting out of the living room wall._

The wooden exterior looked completely unharmed, oddly enough, and the painted _Police Box_ letters covering it hadn't even been scratched. Ryan gradually approached the box, ever so slowly extending a hand to the double doors in the front. As soon as his hands brushed the cold handle, however, the doors flung open. Ryan hurled himself backwards in shock, his back hitting the debris-scuffed wall.

The man standing in the doorway was about a head shorter than Ryan, but with the long brown overcoat, the sharp, intelligent eyes, wild hair and the lowly humming device he brandished, he was much more intimidating. His first thoughts on setting eyes upon the man was that he resembled a grizzled war veteran, much older than he appeared.

"Uh…. 'sup?" Ryan said. With all the crazy shit that'd already gone down today, he'd finally just said 'screw it' and began to roll with whatever happened.

"Oh! Hello!" the man said, suddenly overly cheerful. "Lovely place you've got h- well, actually, it looks a bit of a dump. Do you ever clean? I'm the Doctor, by the way. Pleasure to meet you!" A dark haired man with a strong chin followed him, a hand in his pocket grasping what Ryan would best guess as a concealed weapon, with a blond woman close behind.

"Hey, _I_ didn't trash the place," Ryan said defensively, standing up straight. "Those face-holes were in the wall before I even got here. Who are you, and what's in the box?"

The Doctor, still looking around, hardly paid any attention to him. "Hmm? Sorry?"

"The box," he reiterated. "Donald said he was in a box with a Doctor. I see a box, I see somebody who claims to be a doctor, but I see no Donnie-boy."

"Sorry, I'm afraid I c-"

"_Now._" Ryan said menacingly, towering over the Doctor.

_Click._

Ryan easily identified the sound with that of a pistol, though the sound was a little off. Still a pistol.

And it was right behind his head.

"Harkness. _Captain_ Jack Harkness."

All he could wonder is how the hell he managed to slip around behind him that quickly.

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**Guess who's off hiatus?**


	36. Chapter 36: GLOMP

**Glad to be back, everybody!**

**Alright, then. Enough chit-chat. Let's get crack-a-lackin!**

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_Left. Left. Left. Left. Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Forward. Left. Up. Up. Right. Backwards. Left-_

Donald drifted aimlessly in the emptiness, unaware of whether it was just really dark or if he'd gone blind. If not for the guidance of Vee, he was positive he'd have gone completely insane by now.

_Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, Start –_

_**Can you focus for **_**five minutes, **_**my host?**_

_Well, excuse me. There's not much sense of time here. I could've been here for hours. Or days. Or _years.

_**No, It's been five minutes.**_

_Really?_

_**Sure, why not. **_It sounded like Vee had grown rather irritated, which was a pleasant change of pace from overwhelmingly furious. By now, Donald had drifted into… nothing. Repeatedly. According to Vee, though, every single space in the dark was different, as he'd been trying to explain it to him.

_**And with every passing sector, we draw closer to your… I suppose we could call it an attempt at mental reconstruction, my host.**_

_Which wouldn't be necessary,_ Donald thought, or maybe spoke. He couldn't tell the difference here. _If you hadn't… Jesus. _Did _you kill me?_

_**Oh, no. I would never kill you, my host.**_

Which, knowing what Vee was like, was not a comforting statement.

After a lengthy period of relative (who are we kidding, TOTAL) silence, Donald asked, _Can you at least tell me how these 'sectors' differ? How can you tell them apart when THERE'S NOTHING HERE?_

… _**You mean to tell me that you really can't see it?**_

_See what?_ Donald wondered. It wasn't often that he surprised Vee, but any of the times he _had_, it never ended well.

_**How very… unusual. After the level of synchronization I have achieved with your form, I would have expected a rather noticeable change within the ranges of your perceptional field. So far, however, it appears to have been minimal…**_

… _What?_

_**Perhaps you're just a late bloome-**_

"No, no, no! Go back a minute; you mean to tell me _you're _the reason I can see the others?" Donald asked aloud.

_**What are you blithering about now, my host?**_

_Renji, Grimmjow, etcetera; as far as I can tell, only certain people can see them. Did… did you 'alter' me so that I could see them?_

_**Well, I would assume that as obvious, my host. You should've gathered that much by now. You've shown magnificent progress as far as hosts go, but in all the wrong directions.**_ Donald heard an ephemeral sigh, echoing around him quietly in exasperation. _**You require **_**guidance. **_**I eliminate the useless – you have yet to fulfill your purpose.**_

_What is that supposed to mean?_

_**It means, **_Vee said lowly, and Donald felt a vast force drawing up energy from somewhere nearby, _**that I find it a waste of time to lead the blind.**_

For a moment, he feared that Vee would simply wipe him out of existence. It wouldn't be that difficult; he was severely disoriented, with no way to fight back. All the strength he'd gathered to shatter the Forest of Fog, as he'd deemed it, had vanished completely. As he braced himself for imminent death, he curled himself into as tiny a ball as he could manage and closed his eyes tightly.

… _**My host?**_

"… Uh…" Donald mumbled, not daring to move.

_**I'm not going to kill you yet, my host.**_

_Bullshit. You've tried to kill me before._

_**No,**_ Vee corrected him. _**I have attempted to **_**subdue**_** you before. Just… just open your eyes, my host.**_

Donald slowly cracked one eye open, and almost immediately wished he hadn't.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

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"Now, I'm going to have to ask you to step to the side, _reeeeeally_ slowly," Captain Jack Harkness said, leveling his sonic pistol at the back of Ryan's head. "See, we just had a _hell_ of a ride, and I have to say I am _not_ in the mood to toy around with any friends of Flippy."

"Who?" Ryan asked, not moving an inch. Yet another man came out of the box and closed the door behind him, which was still jutting out nearly a foot off the ground from the wall at an awkward angle. His flaming red hair was the first thing he noticed. Secondly were the flowing black robes he wore, similar to that of a Japanese hakama. "Oh, great," Renji groaned. "Here again." Ryan reprimanded himself almost immediately for not noticing the sharp looking blade on his hip, though. Why was everyone armed?

"You know, Flippy? Your pal that tried to kill us?"

"I think he really has no clue, Jack," Rose said to him, slowly pressing the pistol down away from Ryan's head. Which was probably a bad idea, all in all. "You're, um, looking for the Donald kid, right?" she asked Ryan directly, her large eyes settling on him.

"Your friend –"

"Cousin. He's my cousin."

"Yeah, your cousin. You see, um. Well, uh, he's sort of…"

"Spit it out, you blond British broad!" Ryan barked impatiently. He noticed her eye twitch, and she quickly said "He's dead."

Silence fell over the room, and Ryan barely dared to breathe.

"Well… crap."

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"I just don't get it!" Tails said in frustration, glaring angrily at the machine. "After all that work, all that effort and risk, how can it be malfunctioning?"

"What's wrong with it, exactly?" Ichigo asked curiously. It _looked_ like it was working just fine. And it wasn't even smoking this time.

"It was supposed to detect the genetic code, and using portal physics-"

"Heh heh heh," Danielle chuckled. "Portal physics."

"_And using portal physics,_" Tails continued as if he hadn't heard her, "should have created another small dimensional rift, just large enough to find them, no matter where they are. Instead, we've wasted massive amounts of energy just for a malfunction!"

"But what went _wrong_?" Ichigo emphasized, attempting to narrow down possibilities. Ichigo reminded her a lot of her brother, sometimes. But taller. And with more orange.

And personality.

"It says they're right here!" Tails said, aggravated, throwing up his white-gloved hands in submission to the stubborn machine. "No matter what I do, it displays Danielle's location, and it only indicates that he's right here!"

"Maybe…" Danielle began. "…. Hey. Where's Ryan?" she asked.

"Uh…" Tails exclaimed suddenly. "I don't think I have time to find out."

"What?" Wyatt said. "You told me we had at least ten more minutes before the hole closed!"

"We _did_, until the attempt at opening a secondary rift. We have… seven seconds."

And for once, Wyatt actually did something responsible. He checked around, counting heads. "Everybody through? Good."

"You didn't even check!" they heard Blaze shout angrily from the other side at him.

Wyatt shrugged, grinning, and silently mouthed _Call me!_ to Danielle as the light from the portal slowly dwindled as it closed. "AND I SAW THAT, BUSTER!"

Eventually, the dim orange light faded into complete darkness.

"… That was nine seconds," Ichigo protested. Danielle groaned loudly in disgust at their failure, and slowly began plodding downstairs, pushing her hair out of her face.

_So much for being a hero…_

"Dammit, Ryan!" she yelled down the stairs in anger.

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"Dammit, Ryan!" Ryan heard echo down the stairs.

"Oh, _hell_ no! It's not my fault Donald's dead!" he shouted back.

Only to be greeted by a very, very lengthy silence, followed by a series of loud thumps.

Which only wound up being Danielle falling down every single step after fainting.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?" Ichigo asked, looking down the stairs after her. For a moment she didn't move, but after a short minute, she raised a single shaky thumb to signal that she was still alive.

"… Ow." She groaned into the floor, pushing herself up with her forearms. "Now, what's this I hear about my buh- my byuh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh."

"Sorry, love, I don't speak goldfish very well." the man with short brown hair and a trench coat standing in front of Ryan said.

"Holy nut-balls, Christopher Eccleston!" Danielle chirped in shock.

"Who?" he asked, confused.

"You're… you're the Doctor!" she said, disbelievingly and rubbing her eyes, rapidly jumping to her feet.

"See?" the man said to Captain Harkness. "Told you, Jack. Very recognizable."

"Jac- _sweet mother of Jebus._" Danielle breathed as she set eyes upon him, still standing behind Ryan. He hastily stuffed the sonic pistol into his pocket, and reached for her hand to shake it.

"Hi there! Harkness," he said, white teeth shining in his smile. "_Captain_ Jack Harkness. At your service, pretty lad- _oof!_"

The 'oof' in question brought on by the sudden launch of a Danielle-shaped missile. He landed flat on his back, head hitting the floor with a 'pwhamp'.

"OhmygodJackHarknessTHECaptai nJackHarknesswiththegunandth ehairandtheteamandtheshowand - Oh,hohohoho, and the _muscles," _Danielle said in a single breath before drawing in another large gulp of air whilst still straddling him. "You are _so_ much better looking in person."

"… You know, normally, I'm all for this kind of welcome," he said, gently struggling to remove Danielle from himself without shoving her away immediately. "but I'm still kind of sore."

"Sore? From wh-" Danielle began, standing up and peering around the living room before her eyes passed the TARDIS sticking out of the wall and settled on Rose Tyler, who stared wide-eyed back at her.

"… What?" she asked.

"HE'S MINE, BITCH!" Danielle roared possessively.

"Hello?" Ryan asked, crawling into the time machine when everyone else was distracted. The Doctor, hearing him, panicked, tried to stop him before he could enter, but to no avail. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you-"

Ryan not only looked greasy; he was slipperier than an oiled rat.

"Dear sweet Jesus, what did you _do_ to him?"

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**More coming soon!**

…

**Well, soon '-er' than I had expected. Enjoy and review!**


	37. Chapter 37: Sci-Fi Smells Like Regret

**We're back, everybody! This one's without commercial breaks.**

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Rukia was having a _hell_ of a day.

Being stuck with Renji was obnoxious enough. Sure, she'd known him most of her life, but he was still annoying. She gritted her teeth, climbing higher and reaching for her body.

_Tossed around multiple dimensions, kicked around by a snot nosed brat, those idiots never lend a hand,_ and other such angry thoughts (most accompanied by violent yet satisfying images of 'those idiots') occupied her as she clambered atop the rafters of the TARDIS to reach her gigai. If you could _call_ them rafters. Long, firm and twisting support beams, made of some strange and alien fiber. The material was quite sturdy, but felt lightly softened underneath her touch. Almost like porous wet tree bark.

To her outrage, no one else so much as lifted a finger to help her when her gigai landed in the rafters upon landing (crashing). Even Renji sped out the door, leaving her to fend for herself. _Bastards,_ she thought, finally grasping the arm of her body and quickly slipping back into it before dropping lithely to the floor.

Only to sorely wish she could still access her zanpakuto, or at the very least, that the large cannon-device hadn't broken apart, because the moment she landed she was greeted by a rather large fist to the side by a very surprised Ryan.

This job was _not_ worth the pay Soul Reapers get.

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A small figure dropped from the ceiling, catching Ryan by surprise. Unfortunately, his first reaction to surprise was generally 'get it out of the way,' which didn't go over very well with the slim Japanese woman that fell from the rafters. He bowled over her, knocking her away to continue forward, leaving a furious Soul Reaper behind him.

Who Ryan promptly ignored, rushing to his cousin instead. "Dear sweet Jesus, what did you _do_ to him?" Ryan exclaimed, looking down at the battered form of Donald.

Or rather, the _corpse_ of Donald.

"What? What? Where? Where's Donald?" Danielle said fearfully, shoving aside anyone in her way to get to him. Pushing her way through the small crowd of people at the door of the TARDIS, Danielle gasped in horror, running across the room and dropping to her knees beside Donald.

"Oh… Oh, God, _Donnie,_" she breathed in terror. Usually so proud of his appearance, Donald's normally neat and tidy clothes were ripped and disheveled, his hair had been torn out in several places, and many cuts adorned his body. A mark across his neck revealed long, slender bruises in the shape of fingers. His chest moved not at all, and checking for a pulse resulted in finding him quite cold.

Danielle felt like a golf ball had lodged itself in her throat, and hot tears began to form in her eyes as she fought them back.

Whatever that… _thing_ had done to Donald hadn't just hurt him; it _fucked him up._ The battered and broken body of her little brother was testament to that. Her baby brother, always so independent. She had sworn to protect him, as her duty as elder. Even though much of the time, it had been the other way around. It was Donald who took care of the house, Donald who took care of every bill, Donald who made sure all of her basic needs were met every single day. And _she_ was supposed to be taking care of _him._ She'd never felt like such a complete and total failure in her entire life. And now, he was suffering for it.

Danielle was silent for a very long, quiet stretch, before whispering, "I was supposed to take care of him." Her head was drooped over, hair hanging limply around her head, concealing her face.

"He's not dead, you know," the Doctor said quietly, hands held behind his back.

"Bullshit!" Danielle screamed at him, her voice breaking. She managed to hold herself back from hitting him, hoping, _wanting_ there to be some truth in his statement. It took everything she had not to collapse into tears.

"The parasite that's lodged itself inside of your brother," the Doctor explained, kneeling next to her, "is very, very bad. I thought they were extinct, really; they're called 'Thinlings,' or of the Slender-Kind. It's because once a host has been chosen, they usually reveal themselves to the host as thin copies of people, in an attempt to win their trust."

Danielle listened closely, absorbing every detail. She refused to leave Donald's side, hands clasped onto his frozen arm bef- _frozen?_

"When the host dies," the Doctor continued, standing straight, "is when the parasite is at its weakest. Because they latch themselves onto their host so completely, the only two ways to separate them are either by burning it to a crisp, or…"

It was then that Danielle realized that Donald's wounds, cuts, scrapes and scratches were slowly receding into themselves, silently being filled over with a filmy black liquid. A bit of it ran over her finger, and the intense burning sensation she felt as it stung her fingers caused her to lurch back.

"Total molecular deconstruction. And considering the fact that they tend to cause severe temperature drops in their hosts for periods of time in order to retain a fighting chance of regeneration, I'd say he'll be okay."

"… Okay?" Danielle grunted angrily. "_Okay!_ He's not breathing, he's possessed by an alien parasite, and nearly killed several people and he's just _okay?!_ If your next regeneration weren't so damned hot, I'd mangle you, myself!"

"… How do you know about Time Lord regeneration?"

"That's not important," Danielle said, waving him away. "What matters is how we can save him."

"Weren't you listening to him?" Rose Tyler said, crossing her arms. "They can't be separated. If the Doctor says it can't be done, then-"

"I dunno," Jack interrupted. "There's an awful lot Doc said was impossible. I've been to all sorts of times, and I've never even heard of a Slenderling."

"Thinling," the Doctor corrected him.

"WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM!" Ichigo yelled into the TARDIS from the living room. Renji, sticking his head out, asked "What do y- what the hell?"

Renji nearly bumped into, much to his surprise, a very large, very _blue_ tree.

Inside the living room.

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**Hope to be updating more frequently – hold on to your seats!**


	38. Chapter 38: Tunnels, Questions, Beavers

**Carry on, good readers! Tally-ho!**

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As far as strange things go, Donald had seen some pretty freaky things lately.

But this was, by far, the most obscenely mind-bendingly insane of them all.

An enormous green and orange polka dotted beaver was waltzing with a chainsaw, whirlwinds and dust devils made of cotton candy whipped about haphazardly (some upside down), and memory after memory fired past. Some were encapsulated within nebulous spheres, images portrayed on the outside, some were merely images drifting past, and some were full blown three dimensional transparent images, twirling around endlessly. The insane blur of noises mashing together didn't help in the slightest.

To top it all off, this was happening absolutely everywhere, in every direction. Forward, back, up down – and no matter where Donald looked, he could see through and into each and every one of them, all simultaneously.

"SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF!"

_**Is there a problem, my host?**_ Vee asked quietly, almost mockingly.

"SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF, SHUT IT OFF!"

_**I'm afraid it's not quite that simple, my host,**_ Donald heard, and the thin visage of Vee drifted lazily in front of him, sashaying lightly away. _**Your eyes have been opened. Would you so readily go back to being blind?**_

"YES! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YES!"

_**Too bad.**_

Donald grasped his head in both hands, once again assuming the fetal position. No matter how tightly he closed his eyes, it was if he hadn't closed them at all. The all-encompassing chaos was maddening enough; the fact that it washed over him in massive wave after wave with no way to escape only made it worse.

He heard Vee sigh in discontent, and what felt like a dark shroud wrapped itself around him.

_**Very well, my host; an alternate sector, perhaps?**_

It suddenly grew very quiet, and Donald dared to wrench his eyes open once more. The cacophony of noise had finally stopped, and Donald peered around through his fingers. He found himself in a very low, green tunnel, made completely out of stone. Brushing his fingers against the rock, he found it rather warm to the touch. The walls gave off a low, dim light, painting everything in a minty shade of green. Looking about his surroundings, he discovered that there were many more identical tunnels, all branching out in dozens of directions.

"Great," he said aloud. "More ways to get lost."

_**Not even thankful, my host?**_

Donald rubbed his ears gingerly, as if trying to dig out the last of the noise. Vee's own voice, heard both inside and outside his head, was always annoying. "I wouldn't _be_ in… wherever the hell _this_ is, if it weren't for you."

_**Correct. You'd be dead without me.**_

"Pfft. You're leading me into the cold hands of death no matter _what_ you do. Speaking of which," Donald said, rubbing his arms, "isn't this supposed to be inside my head? Why is it so damned cold?" The thin turtleneck he wore offered little protection from the elements.

_**Because **_**technically,**_** it's not your head you're looking upon.**_

"And that means….?" Donald questioned, starting off slowly down a random tunnel.

_**What shred of mental ground you had managed to retain was obliterated; however, instead of killing you, as it should have, I… 'softened' the blow you dealt yourself, transferring you from your own mind.**_

Donald stopped dead in his tracks, thinking furiously. As Vee spoke, several things had occurred to him at once.

Firstly, that if _this_ is what the essence of Vee looked like, it had some _serious_ issues.

_**You may be correct, my host,**_ Vee replied before Donald could speak. _**You forget that your every thought is evident to me.**_

_Damn. How could I forget that?_

_**Because you were commanded to, my host.**_ Vee said smugly.

"… Come again?"

_**Nothing, my host.**_

"And anyway, what did you mean, 'softened the blow'?" Donald asked, pretending that he had dropped the subject. Instead he pushed quietly to the back of his mind, neither forgetting nor focusing on that particular memory. 'Commanded to forget' could be a rather valuable piece of information.

_**I… absorbed much of the impact by that implosion your fit of anger caused, my host. It caused my quite the significant amount of suffering, and lead to much of the turmoil you witnessed previously, not including many other sectors.**_

Meaning… that Vee had just taken the equivalent of a psychic bullet for him.

"But… why?" Donald asked curiously.

_**Do not think that I value your pitiful human existence, my host,**_ Vee stated sharply. _**I merely wish to ensure that your presence is not destroyed. Without it, your body may still function, but not as efficiently. Picture a hand puppet, made of raw meat.**_

"Ew."

_**Like pulling the strings on a corpse. And decomposition is a royal bitch to deal with.**_

"… _Ew._"

_**Which is why I am currently attempting to preserve your body, so that**_-

"The ooze can regenerate my muscular tissues," Donald finished for him, passing hallway after green identical hallway.

_**It is not **_**ooze,**_** my host,**_ Vee said angrily. _**I am not Playdough, or nuclear waste.**_

"I can't tell the difference." Vee ignored him, continuing.

_**I am a highly advanced symbiotic telepathic being, both intellectually and physically superior to human kind in every way imaginable.**_

Donald stopped, asking "Didn't you tell me that your entire race was destroyed in a picosecond?"

…_**. Fuck you, my host.**_

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**More on the way! Remember; your reviews are important.**

**Danielle: To us. Not to that jerk.**

**Hey! I care plenty!**

**Danielle: About reviews. Jerk.**

**T.T Why does everything I create hate me?**


	39. Chapter 39: An Uneventful Trip

**Next chapter has arrived, everybody! Buckle in tight, lest the saber toothed flying walrus demons should snatch you up!**

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Renji considered himself to be a man of tact. A keen observer, and a battle hardened soldier capable of acting on a moments' notice. One that had been trained for years and years for a myriad of possibilities, the difficulty of which would crush most soul reapers. He considered himself to be a subtle man, and one that was always ready for the unexpected.

Renji was also wrong on many occasions.

"… Are you seeing this shit?" Renji asked, using his thumb to point out the massive cerulean tree sprouting up out of the living room floor. Ichigo, clambering nimbly over the sprawling blue roots, said, "Forget about that; it's not just here. Look!"

Using the remote, Ichigo clicked the television on and watched it flicker back to life.

"_-stead of what appears to be massive weather changes, reports of strange anomalies in said patterns might be linked to current events. Back to you, Tom."_

"_Thanks, Becky. Looks like it's not just New Hampshire – whole cities are reporting anywhere from very small to building sized… uh, rifts? Rifts in the air, depositing mostly assorted fauna, though there have been several incidents of people stating that living creatures are showing up, too. People are asked to remain indoors at all times, and to isolate themselves into storm shelters if possible." _The man in the black suit droned on, his loud, grating voice filling the room. _"The president has issued a state of national emergency, and citizens are warned to _not_ approach the holes, under any circumstances."_

Ichigo switched the television off, glaring directly at the Doctor, who in turn, glared back at him.

"… What?" he asked, shrugging. "_I_ didn't do this."

"Are you sure?" Rukia asked him, rolling her shoulders and trying to get more comfortable in her gigai (before someone knocked it aside yet _again_). "Has anyone else noticed anything in particular?"

"You mean, _aside_ from the big ass blue tree?" Ichigo asked sarcastically.

"No, _idiot,_" she said impatiently. "the… _jumping_ stopped. Right about the same time that we got into this box." Rukia continued, running her hand along the wall of the TARDIS.

"Oh…" the Doctor said, covering his mouth. "Oh…. Dear."

"What?" Danielle questioned him. "That's it? That's all you have to say? 'Oh, dear?'"

Danielle had long since given up attempting to move Donald. His wounds had completely vanished, and though he had not awakened, she was satisfied to see that his chest had begun to move, ever so slightly, up and down. His body was incredibly cold, so much so that she was surprised he wasn't frozen solid as well. Unfortunately, at the same time, a thin coating of black goop had wrapped itself around half of Donald's body, much like a cocoon. And over _that,_ large chunks of ice had begun to form, sealing it in.

Which weirded the _hell_ out of her.

_So long as he's breathing…_

"Perhaps…" the Doctor began, scratching his chin and pacing back and forth in what little room the crowded TARDIS had left to offer. He looked pointedly at Rukia for a moment, before asking her "When you say 'jumping'… do you mean, across large distances?"

"And time. And space. And _dimensions,_" Rukia said, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "For hours, and hours. Until we entered this… time machine."

"And… has this happened to anyone else?"

"Pretty much everyone except Ryan and Danielle." Rukia answered.

The Doctor turned, and looked very, very slowly at Danielle. She stared up at him, mystified by his sudden silence.

"… What?"

"What in the bloody hell did you _do_?"

Danielle gently brought out the small genetic detector she carried, presenting it to him. "I… I just…" she shook her head, clearing her thoughts and throat. "I saved everyone."

The Doctor gestured for the device, asking "May I?"

"Sure, I guess."

He took the fragile machine in his hands carefully, inspecting it closely before popping it open and peering around the inside, running the sonic screwdriver over it before shutting it off.

"… This… this is several hundred years ahead of your time." He said lowly.

"Donald's a pretty smart kid," she said pointedly.

"No amount of cleverness is going to get you a genetic detection unit hundreds of years early." Captain Jack Harkness interrupted. "Not a chance in hell."

The Doctor held up his hand, silencing him, and kneeled down to Danielle's level. Very quietly, he asked her "Where do you think Donald got the idea for this?"

A loud, low rumble boomed in the distance, like a distorted clap of thunder.

"… Probably from the stationary one he's got in a secret room."

"… I see."

"I also think," Danielle continued, "that whatever that thing is – the 'thinling' helped him make it."

"You're probably correct," he said, looking at the now rapidly freezing body of her younger brother, completely attached to the floor.

"Uh, guys?" Ichigo said from outside the TARDIS. "You… you _do_ realize that, just, you know, THE WORLD IS FALLING APART!"

"My best estimation," the Doctor said, standing quickly and working the controls on the TARDIS, "is that the molecular teleportation field created around the individual warped around that of the signal put off by the TARDIS, ending the sporadic 'leaping' effect. However,"

"Speak plain Japanese, dammit!" Renji said, tapping his foot.

"GUYS?"

The Doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in one hand while working the TARDIS controls with the other. "The field around you made you 'jump'. The TARDIS has a field," he said, as if explaining it to a very small child. "The field generated by the TARDIS interfered with your own, and as the larger and more stable field, canceled yours out through sheer force."

"… Huh. Okay, I think I got it." Renji said satisfactorily.

"_GUYS?!_" Ichigo yelled in panic, leaping into the TARDIS with everyone else.

"Oh, yeah, right." The Doctor said. "We, uh… we should probably go."

Much to Ryan's surprise, who had been quiet for some time now, massive rifts had begun appearing outside the TARDIS, twisting and warping the world around them. One of them even appeared to be spewing out mounds of… _dirt._

_Oh, Donnie's gonna just LOVE cleaning up that mess._ He thought to himself as he watched his cousin's house slowly ripped apart from the inside out. Which, now that he thought of it, really should have disturbed him.

_Fuck it, man. Nothing else can surprise me today. Nothin'._

Rukia, standing next to him (and rather short in contrast) was watching his face closely and almost seemed to read his mind. "Oh, it'll get worse."

Ryan cocked his eyebrows, reaching for the (now empty) package of cigarettes inside his thin and worn black jacket pocket. "What makes you say that, tiny?" he asked, reclining against the wall of the TARDIS as Rose Tyler quickly closed the doors. The Doctor flipped several levers on the left hand side, leaping around the time machine like an overexcited lemur.

"Because. Just _because._ I don't know most of these people," she said, gesturing around the room, "but if Danielle does, _plus_ she's involved, I do _not_ want to find out where this is going."

Ryan shrugged apathetically, until he discovered that the only thing left in his jacket pocket was a silver Zippo lighter. He grumbled angrily, trying to shut out the noise and withdraw into himself. It was mainly a defense mechanism, or maybe just a really bad habit that he'd picked up as a kid. Quite frankly, he didn't care.

The familiar (to some) hum of the TARDIS whirred to life, and the entire crew felt a slight shift as the machine quickly went from still to mobile.

"…_Hnnnnnng._" Danielle groaned, leaning against the TARDIS controls next to the Doctor for support.

"Are… are you alright?" he asked, concerned for her sudden change.

Her knees shook slightly, before she straightened up, pretending nothing had happened.

"Sorry," she said. "I can't get over that noise. I think I might have just fangasmed. Right in my pants."

She delighted in watching a light blush creep up his neck, and the Doctor coughed loudly, slowly sidling away from her. "Right, then," he said, busying himself with directing the TARDIS. "world to save yet again, and all tha-… do I even want to ask how you know what the TARDIS sounds like?" he asked, suddenly.

"No. It would _blow_ your _mind_." She said, using her hands for visual aid. By which I mean flailing around.

"Try me," he said dryly.

Danielle peered around for a moment, whipping her head back and forth before beckoning the Doctor closer. She cupped her hands, and began whispering into his ear.

At this moment, Ichigo realized several things. Firstly, the TARDIS continued along its path, regardless of whether or not someone was at the controls. Secondly, the blonde woman, Rose Tyler, suddenly became severely agitated to discover that another female was anywhere near the Doctor. _Jealous, much?_ And finally, the Doctor's eyes narrowed, then widened slightly, narrowed again, and eventually ended with very wide eyes and his mouth hanging slightly agape. Ichigo fought back the urge to snicker, as he very much resembled a fish. A very surprised fish, ideally.

The Doctor grew very pale within a short span of a few seconds, before swallowing and nodding slightly and returning to the TARDIS controls. "Right. Right. _Right. _Fantastic."

Danielle, noticing Rose Tyler's discontent, quickly said "Oh, don't worry. I'm not trying to nail him, or anything."

"What?" Rose replied defensively. "Who said anything about-"

"You didn't have to, you're a _really_ bad liar," Danielle said, grinning. "Besides, this incarnation's just about worn out anyway. I'm waiting for the fresh, new, crisp model."

"Don't talk about the Doctor like he's a new pair of shoes!" Rose growled at the elder of the twins, balling up her fists.

"More like a big, hunky, inflatable-"

"HEY, LOOK, SOMETHING RELATED TO SOMETHING WE'RE DOING!" the Doctor exclaimed hurriedly, hitting several buttons and knobs, sending the TARDIS into a spiral.

Preferably before anyone could die in a catfight, which Captain Jack Harkness seemed to _really_ be disappointed not to see.

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The puce green, narrow, endless hallways were a hell like no other.

Not that they were particularly terrible; there was enough room to stretch comfortably in, the light was plenty, and a low, warm breeze wafted through the tunnels periodically. Donald imagined himself several times inside the Green Giant's arteries. Even the slight pulsation of the walls was a bit cozy, like the entire area was curling up to sleep.

No, Donald was quite at ease in this place. The hell was reserved especially for Vee, and the fact that Donald would not _shut the hell up._

"I mean, more like Styrofoam than anything, am I right?" he said, rambling. "And even then, _highly_ illogical!"

_**My host,**_ Vee groaned, _**please. I beg of you. No more talking.**_

"And it's not like the problem with the peripheral vision was easily solvable _before_ the incident with the soup, an-"

_**Please, my host. Shut up.**_ Vee said in exhaustion, his tortured moan escaping several times (and completely ignored by Donald.)

"Oh, what was that?" Donald asked, who had been talking nonstop for what felt like many hours. His throat was oddly not sore in the slightest, which he also took note of. "You want me to be quiet. _You_ want _me_ to stop talking?" he feigned surprise once again.

_**For the last time, YES, my host. I require a modicum of silence for proper recuperation.**_

"And now, you know. Now, YOU know what it's like, being forced to listen to you. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, a-"

_**FINE! I UNDERSTAND!**_ Vee roared in frustration. _**You **_**win**_**! Are you happy now, my host?**_

"I'll be happy when you apologize, I don't know… seventy-eight thousand more times? And then, only maybe." Donald replied, shrugging half-heartedly.

_**You know what? **_**Fuck it.**_** Different sector.**_

"…. Uh, what?"

And that was all the time Donald had to say before the walls around him collapsed, and a dark cloud swarmed over him. In a panic, he swung desperately and the mass of thick black fog, but it enveloped him and whisked him away before he could do much else.

In a moment, the cloud vanished completely, along with Donald, leaving only the hollow green hallways. One would have sworn Vee sighed in relief, if they could hear him.

"AAAAAAGH!" Donald screamed in terror, flying along at whiplash speeds.

_**Oh, be silent, my host.**_ Vee grumbled, never truly disconnected from Donald. _**Besides, this is much more efficient.**_

"EFFICIENT MY ASS!" he yelled through a mouth full of fog. "JANE! STOP THIS CRAZY THING!"

_**Well, obviously you're not 'that' terrified, if you have time to make reference jokes.**_

Donald was actually silent for a moment, thinking. The cloud moved faster and faster, gradually dipping into a low slide as strange area after area whipped past. He couldn't tell if the fog was covering a large distance, or if the 'sectors' were just getting darker. Since the cloud was interfering with his speech (a design by Vee, doubtless,) he used thought instead.

… _How the hell do you know anything about the Jetsons?_

_**Do you **_**ever**_** listen to me, my host? Did I not expressly state that you are not my first host?**_

… _I don't like where this is going._

_**Nobody does, my host. Nobody does.**_

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**More on the way, folks! Review to your heart's content.**


	40. Chapter 40: It Was Here A Minute Ago

**Forty.**

**We've actually hit forty chapters.**

…

**Holy **_**shit**_**, you guys.**

**With tons of reviews, personal messages on opinions, follows and criticism alike, this feels like… a milestone.**

**So, I hope you weren't expecting anything awesome or epic like that, because that's NOT what's happening. Sorry to disappoint.**

**Danielle: I call bullshit!**

**Quiet, you. Enjoy!**

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Right away, Donald could tell that something had gone wrong.

The darkness eventually settled like dust, and Donald's eyes adjusted quickly to the new area. In almost direct contrast to the pulsating tunnels, this new place was nearly cavernous, but without an echo signaling Donald's footsteps. He couldn't tell quite how far up it went, as the top vanished into the darkness, as did the walls. It was somehow open and claustrophobia-inducing simultaneously, which was a bit disconcerting. It also felt a little warmer in here, irritatingly so.

"Hello?" Donald called, his voice muffled. When Vee didn't answer, he called out again, and again.

Finally, he grew tired of never receiving an answer, and instead used the thought-speech he'd been accustomed to.

_Is anyone out there?_

And it was at that exact moment that Donald regretted his mistake.

The moment he thought it, dozens upon dozens of glowing eyes popped open, all around him. Some followed others, some floated haphazardly by themselves, and some winked into and out of existence seemingly at random. In addition to that, due to the nature of the 'zone' he was in, he could only make out the eyes, not if they were attached to anything.

In short, it was _fucking terrifying. _

And Donald signaled so, screaming like a small girl and tripping over his own feet in his rush to escape.

Simply heroic.

Donald lurched around the massive room in panic, rushing toward an exit that didn't exist. The multi colored eyes followed him, twirling around menacingly.

_Twirling menacingly…and… uh…_

That was all, really. Donald slowly came to a stop after a short run, looking around him. It seemed strange, that he could only see a certain distance in such a short room, but every single eye stood out clearly. They didn't attack, or so much as move too quickly. He tried to still his heavily beating heart (which was also odd, as he shouldn't even have a physical body,) and focused on the eyes, drawing facts on them in order to counter his fear.

They moved rather slowly, but few of them stayed still for long. A couple had more than one retina, and some were so small he could barely make them out. One, though, caught his eye. No pun intended.

One eye, much larger than the others, didn't move at all. The retina looked as if it were splitting, and the dark green color stood out, even in the dark. Whereas most of the other eyes wandered, the large green one was the only one focusing on him.

And so Donald made another mistake.

He stared back. Very slowly, very deliberately, it focused its vision upon him.

And it spoke.

"**And so, a new champion heralds the return of Hermaeus Mora."**

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Grimmjow blasted across the fields, dodging massive rifts in the air with ease. More and more of them split open, some of them meters across. The technique Pantera had taught him had come in handy. The ability to speed across large distances so quickly, with such _ferocity_ that it left a whipping noise spiraling behind him.

He _loved it._

It was exhilarating, the massive speed he acquired as he hurried back to the Miller residence. It was rather tiring; and if it weren't for the random rifts constantly trying to suck him into who-knows-where, this would've been pretty fun.

He burst into the house through an already shattered window, not stopping long enough to look around.

Which really would have been a good idea, had he not seen a blue police box slowly fading out of existence.

He didn't know quite what persuaded him to do what he did. He didn't know why, never stopped to think or ask his sentient blade for any advice. No thought; only action.

And it was probably just that that saved him. Or damned him, however you choose to look at it.

Either way, he managed to retain a firm grip on the police box just as it yanked itself out of time.

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"So what's the plan, then, Doc?" Captain Jack Harkness asked, a little worried.

The Doctor remained silent as he sat on the small set of steps, cradling his head in his hands.

The now enlarged crew had been traveling for quite some time now. Or at least it felt like it.

"You… do have a plan, don't y-"

"Of course he does!" Rose Tyler interrupted him defensively. "The Doctors always got a plan. It doesn't matter what time we're in, he's always got a plan – always knows just what to do. He's a Time Lord!"

"The only one," the Doctor said quietly, without lifting his head.

"Oh, come on, Doc," Jack said, punching his shoulder lightly. "If _you_ survived, then there's alw-"

"The. Only. One."

Silence followed, and without explaining, the Doctor simply pointed toward the door to the TARDIS. Curiously, Danielle leapt down from near the controls and Donald's frozen body, and slowly pried the doors open. And even though she'd seen in so many times on a screen, it still managed to take her breath away.

Such a massive, infinite expanse of space. Stars, planets, entire galaxies awaiting.

"… _Wow…_" she whispered in awe…

"Yeah," the Doctor said miserably, "wow."

"What's the matter?" Rose asked him. "It's space."

"And?" he replied, again without lifting his head.

"… Empty space?" she said slowly.

Danielle stopped staring out for a moment, peering hard. Donald had tried to inform (by which it's meant stuff knowledge down her throat) her on the many galaxies of the universe. As a matter of fact, Doctor Who was the only reason she really paid attention for very long. This particular area looked oddly reminiscent of some of the star maps that Donald had shown her. Laminated little things, with – wait. _Wait._

"… Hey, uh, Doctor? Sir?" Danielle asked, a little nervous.

He slowly lifted his head, his tired eyes looking at her with so much sorrow that it worried her. Badly.

"I'm sorry…"

"…Where's the Milky Way?"

"I'm so, so sorry."

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**More on the way! Reviews = speedy chapter!**

**Er, usually.**


	41. Chapter 41: Nap Time's Over

**KEEP CALM**

**AND**

**CARRY ON PLOTTING**

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"Nnnnnygh! Hrrr-nnnnngh!" Grimmjow grunted as he pulled himself along the top of the TARDIS, desperately trying to get inside. He didn't know quite how he was still alive; mainly due to the fact that he was _in space_. Regardless, he half-shimmied down the top of the TARDIS, in order to slowly try and pry the doors open.

Only to discover that they were standing wide open, someone standing in the doorway. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be Danielle, her back turned to him as she questioned a depressed looking man in a trench coat. Grimmjow grinned at his good fortune, and flung himself inside, trusting his skill and dexterity to assist him.

However, he wasn't quite _that_ lucky, as he had misjudged the proportions of the TARDIS and fell onto the floor, face first. He attempted to twist and save himself as he did so, hoping to land like a cat on all fours.

Instead, the entire crew froze as they witnessed a very fast blue-haired psychopath crash into the floor like an out of control ballerina on crack. He flailed wildly and bounced back up almost immediately, straightening his clothing and hair as if nothing had gone wrong.

He would have expected a laugh from Danielle, or some kind of cold mockery for his accident. Instead, he received various stares from the now slightly more crowded TARDIS.

"… What?" he asked. "You look like you just seen a ghost, or something."

No one so much as answered him. Renji and Rukia stood stock still, next to Ichigo. Donald, frozen to the floor in an icicle cocoon didn't open his eyes. Neither Jack nor Rose Tyler said anything to him, though they could clearly see him. Even the gloomy looking greasy guy leaning up against the wall just stared at him, cigarette dangling from his lip.

"… What?"

"… How in the bloody _hell_ did you get in here?"

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"…. Er, sorry, what?" Donald asked, cleaning out his ear with his pinky. He could have sworn that the giant eyeball had just spoken to him.

Then again, with as many strange things that seemed to be happening lately, he wouldn't have doubted it.

"**I am Hermaeus Mora, the Knower of the Forbidden and Arcane, Master of Fate, and-"**

"Yeah, that's fantastic dude, but I've kind of already got a super powered freak trying to ride me like a rental donkey from Tijuana."

Apparently, the elder god wasn't so accustomed to being interrupted. Especially after what was expected to be a rather dramatic entrance. Donald's false bravado didn't last long, however, as the eyes swirled around him, and the massive green one loomed over him.

"**So, it is your wish to **_**continue**_** to be ruled by the being you know as the Slender One?"** it asked him, it's steely gaze locking onto Donald.

"Oh, and let me guess," Donald asked, steadily thinking of a way out. "You want to offer me some kind of way to get rid of him? For a price?"

"**Well, I-"**

"Look, I appreciate the offer. But I'll stick with the devil I know, thanks. I don't need anyone's help. I don't need _your _help. I'm learning how to fight back against him." And with that, Donald turned away and promptly began walking in another direction, door or no door.

"**Again?"** Hermaeus Mora asked slyly, the massive eye narrowing at him.

"Yup. Again." Donald said, waving his hand back at the eye without looking or stopping.

"**And one would assume you puny little mortals would learn a simple lesson by now,"** he said lowly, his voice echoing off of the distant walls.

Donald slowly came to a stop, though he still didn't look back. "… And what is that supposed to mean?"

"**Have you truly forgotten so easily?"** Hermaeus asked. **"And we've spoken so often."**

_That_ got Donald's attention. "… Sorry, what?" he asked, the blood freezing in his veins.

"**The one you know as 'Vee',"** Hermaeus Mora began slowly, **"is not merely a parasite. He is a malevolent entity, powerful on the level of Daedra. He is a master of manipulation, cunning and deceitful."**

Donald's mind raced, his thoughts going back to just how many times Vee had mentioned something he thought was important…

And he didn't remember.

Not a single bit.

Donald's predictable, photographic memory.

Useless.

'_Damn. How could I forget that?' '__**Because you were commanded to, my host.**__'_

Oh.

_Oh._

Donald breathed lightly, clutching his head. A painful headache had begun to form, the harder he thought and struggled to regain his memory.

"Oh, my god." His heart raced and he dropped to his knees, panicking. Just how much had he forgotten? For a short while? For days? Weeks? How long had-

"**I could offer some level of assistance,"** Hermaeus Mora said smugly, sensing his distress.

"… What's the catch?"

_**Oh, I don't think that's going to be a problem, my host.**_

Donald jumped in surprise, only to find the tall, leering form of Vee lurching over him, blank face staring directly into his own.

"Jesus Christ! Don't _do_ that!" Donald yelped, falling backwards, trying to catch his breath.

"**Do you see how easily you are terrified? How much power he wields over you?"**

_**Yes, yes, we know,**_ Vee said mirthlessly, waving away the gigantic floating eyeball. _**I'm manipulative, and evil, and blah blah blah. It's time to continue, my host.**_

Donald glared at Vee confusedly. "What, so you can suck even more memories out of my head?"

… _**Ah. So we've come back to that again, have we?**_

"**A simple agreement is all it would require,"** Hermaeus Mora said to Donald lowly. **"Become my champion, and free yourself from his iron grip. I could even return you memories-"**

_**He's lying.**_ Vee said, turning his faceless gaze to Hermaeus.

"Oh, like you'd know anything about-"

_**Yes, yes I would, my host. **_ Vee cut him off abruptly. _**He may grant you memories, but they are not yours. He does not have that kind of power. He, too, is but a memory.**_

Donald froze, just when he thought he couldn't get any more confused.

"… Uh… what?"

_**Did I not tell you that I have had previous hosts? One of which happened to be a champion of Hermaeus Mora. This is but a memory; a specter of a being long lost. **_Vee looked at the hovering visage of the elder god, his head tilted to the side. He looked almost sad. _**But memories, especially of those no longer living, are quite powerful. **_**All **_**memories retain power; and I now ask you for something new, my host.**_

The myriad of eyeballs slowly floated away, and the room seemed to shrink as they did so. Eventually, all that was left was the giant image of Hermaeus Mora, slowly fading, Donald, and Vee. Vee extended a long, slender hand to him, and dropped to one knee.

_**I do not ask that you understand. I merely ask that you forgive me.**_

"… Uh… what?"

_**This… 'sector'. As we shall name it. This 'sector' contains memories. Many, many memories. Some are old, and some are quite fresh. Quite a few are alien, and incomprehensible to you for now. But I did not deprive you of certain memories because I am cruel. I was forced to do so in order to keep you from sabotaging me.**_

Donald's thoughts rushed back to the incidents within the TARDIS, and the memory slowly crawled back as to why he really wanted to stop Vee in the first place.

He was in possession of a time machine.

_**No matter what you believe, you could not have saved her. It was fated to be so.**_

"Bullshit!" Donald roared angrily, his fists clenching. He was quickly growing sick of Vee's soliloquy, and a sneaking suspicion that there was probably a reason behind it made him sweat nervously.

Before long, many of the eyeballs had begun to return. This time, however, they brought with them more than drifting retinas.

They were attached to bodies.

The apparently limitless room shifted, and slowly grew larger to accommodate the massive number of people appearing. Face after face, person after person arrived, standing silently in a massive circle around Donald and Vee, of all races, ages, and genders. Each and every one of them, a previous host. However, a couple of them stood prominently against the rest of them, staring directly at Donald, faces emotionless.

The first one was easy to identify; he'd known her since the day he was born.

"Oh – oh, god."

_**You have no need to fear for her safety, my host; once I have removed myself from a previous host, I leave absolutely nothing behind. Not even memory of my being. I possessed her only momentarily.**_

That caught Donald's attention rather abruptly. "What? Why?"

_**Do you remember awakening here?**_

"You mean in the tunnel… things?"

_**No, my host, that was from the time I once inhabited a rabid badger. Big mistake, by the way. No, I mean when I altered your vision.**_

The unbearable chaos that he had first witnessed and had almost driven him completely insane was _not_ something he wanted to repeat. "You mean…"

_**Yes. She is simply far too dangerous for me to retain a corporeal form within her mind. The moment I attempted to wrest control, I was nearly obliterated. And I doubt she even knew I existed at the time.**_

"… Damn."

_**Indeed.**_

The other easily recognized figure, however, disturbed him quite a bit. As a matter of fact, the longer he thought about it, the more it terrified him, as he feared the same fate. Mainly due to the fact that the very person he recognized was none other than…

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"Grimmjow!" Danielle said in surprise. "How… just…. _How…._ Ah, fuck it." And with that, flung herself at him and hugged him tightly. "I thought I'd never see you again! How are you still ali- hnnnnyuk."

Grimmjow slowly pulled Danielle off of himself by lifting her up by her shirt collar, and setting her to the side.

He glared around the room for a brief moment before settling his eyes on Donald's frozen cocoon. He pointed directly at him, and bluntly said "Throw him out."

"_What?_" Ichigo exclaimed.

Grimmjow brushed past him, standing directly over Donald. "Oh, you'll do it." He said confidently.

"What makes you so sure of that?" Ichigo replied, shoving Grimmjow out of the way and reaching for his zanpakuto.

"Because ever since I woke up, I've had a little difficulty remembering things. Seems the farther away from _this_ asshole I got," he said, jabbing his thumb angrily and Donald. "the better I could remember. Now, I don't remember a whole lot, but I have remembered a couple of things. Like, for example, Pantera." His hand rested gently on the handle of his sword, and he felt the power surge through it as he said the name.

"Now, answer me this question." He said, holding up his hand and looking around at the other Soul Reapers.

"… When's the last time you even heard your zanpakuto speak?"

Silence fell completely on the group, save for the confused original crew of the TARDIS, who watched closely.

Ichigo breathed heavily for a moment, his eyes closed. After a couple of seconds, they flickered back open, confused and mildly disturbed.

"… I can't hear Zangetsu."

"Bingo." Grimmjow said triumphantly, as apparently neither Rukia nor Renji could hear the spirits of their zanpakuto, either. "That… _thing._ Inside your brother," he said pointedly to Danielle. "It makes people forget things. I don't know how. I don't know _why_. What I _do_ know is that if we get rid of _it_, we have a chance at recovering our mem-"

"_Fuck_ your memories!" Danielle growled defensively, covering her frozen brother with her arms. "You want him gone, you have to throw me out, too!"

"Fine!" he said, heaving both Danielle and Donald's frozen person directly off the floor. The ice ripped and shattered as he pulled, tinkling to the floor.

"You're not throwing them out!" Renji yelled, covering the doors.

"Bullshit! They get to be astronauts today! Now, move, or you go, too!"

"NOBODY'S GOING _ANYWHERE!_" the Doctor yelled at the top of his lungs, leaping into action. He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the controls to the TARDIS. With a high pitched whirr, the machine shook to life, carrying the crew further through the time stream. The TARDIS shook, throwing everyone off balance as they struggled to regain footing.

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Donald watched as his inner world tumbled and collapsed, leaving only himself and Vee standing on a thin circle of flooring.

"AAAGH! What the hell's happening now?!"

_**The symbiosis process! It's being interrupted!**_

"What?"

_**The process must be complete for a proper symbiosis between myself and the host; why am I **_**always**_** interrupted?**_

"So, what happens now?" Donald asked in panic as the entire world slowly dipped further into darkness, the black fog returning in a rush to swarm around them.

_**I have altered your physical form as much as I currently dare; however, if the process is not allowed to complete, I fear that you will lose much more than a couple of IQ points.**_

"And what does _that_ mean?"

_**I have never known fear, my host. If you continue to struggle against me in an effort to reclaim memories that might not even be yours, I shall have reason to be very, very afraid.**_

_**For the both of us.**_

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More coming soon, and thanks for your reviews!


	42. Chapter 42: The Meaning Of Life

**Glad to be back, everybody!**

**Let's get crackin'.**

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Today was just not Ryan Miller's day.

His last cigarette was yanked abruptly out of his mouth by the force of the TARDIS suddenly shifting into the time stream, and he tumbled swiftly to the side as he strained to regain his balance. Not many of the others fared any better, save for Jack and Rose, who had a firm grip on the railing near the center, closer to the whirring tube in the middle of the room. The grinding of the TARDIS grew louder moment after moment, and before long, the noise was so loud he had to shout to make himself heard.

Rukia, looking directly at him, shook her head, indicating that she couldn't hear him.

"I said, _I think we're in deep shit now!_"

Which, of course, was the only part anyone heard as the TARDIS became rapidly silent, slowing to a complete halt.

Grimmjow, flinging the doors open with one hand as he easily lifted both the frozen form of Donald and Danielle clutching him tightly, proclaimed "Yeah, so I hope you brought a few shovels, 'cause – is that a blue freakin' tree?"

The massive oddity of nature that had sprung up in the Miller den was still standing, as if it had never left.

Although, technically, all the Doctor did was set the TARDIS to return to its last point. Through the door, Ryan could quite easily see… another TARDIS. Jutting directly out of the wall opposite them.

A leaping figure of the past Grimmjow could be seen clinging desperately to it as it vanished out of sight.

Ryan had just watched _himself_ disappear.

Holy _shit_, what was in those cigarettes?

The enormity of the situation finally seemed to crash down onto him with his revelation that maybe, just _maybe_, he might not be hallucinating due to an overdose.

His cousin really was frozen.

Both of his cousins very well may die.

Hell, _he_ very well might die.

And the entire world was falling apart simultaneously.

Ryan sank to the floor of the TARDIS, frantically trying to pull himself together.

"Yes," Ichigo answered him as he yanked Danielle (and Donald with her) from Grimmjow's grasp. "that's a blue freakin' tree. The bigger problem is how it got there, and trying to kill these two isn't going to get anybody anywhere."

"Not even Soul Society?" Danielle asked curiously as she dangled from her frozen brother, slowly prying herself off. Her fingers were quickly growing cold.

"I doubt it," Ichigo said, frowning. "No one can contact the Soul Society, we covered this before. We're on our own here."

"Not necessarily…" the Doctor piped up, straightening his overcoat. "I've had a bit to consider these rips in time-"

"OOH, you mean like in that one where Rose Tyler has to watch her dad die?" Danielle chimed in gleefully.

It became very, very silent inside the TARDIS, regardless of the strange world-ripping noises coming from outside.

"… And I'm not going to do a single thing about them until you inform me as to just how you know about that, young lady." The Doctor finished, crossing his arms.

Danielle pulled her collar, sweating nervously. "Uh, you see, I, uh… I can't really tell you."

"Oh, yes, I see." The Doctor said, sitting down on one of the raised steps and making himself comfortable by crossing one of his legs and leaning back, resting his head.

"… Uh… Doctor… sir?" Danielle said, now very uncomfortable. "You, uh… you _do_ realize that the world is falling apart because of some crazy wormhole interdimensional vortex time shit, right?"

"Mm-hmm." The Doctor agreed, smiling as he closed his eyes.

"… So, don't you think you should attend to _that_ first?" she said, panicking as she tried to reclaim her grip on her frozen brother. It wasn't easy; her hands were sticky and sweaty. Several small chips of ice had begun to flake and fall off, and multiple cracks had begun appearing in the cocoon, although Ichigo still had not released him.

"Oh, yes. I probably should. But then I might never discover just how you know so very much that you shouldn't, aye?"

Danielle gaped at the Doctor, aghast. She stared around for some support, though she received none. Jack Harkness had slowly backed away, and Rose Tyler had begun very tight lipped, though she'd guessed at what the Doctor was planning.

"Are… are you _shitting me?_" she choked, jabbing a finger outside. "The _world_ is falling apart! You're the good guy! You're supposed to save it!"

"True. Very true," the Doctor agreed. "I'm supposed to save the world. But I can't really say that I'm much accustomed to this one. After all, we're not even in our own dimension anymore, are we?"

It was now Danielle's turn to be silent, though her mouth opened and closed quite a bit. She thought feverishly of a way she could slip out of this one.

"I'll tell you what," the Doctor said energetically as he leaned forward, like a lion ready to pounce. "You give me some supporting evidence – some form of 'collateral', shall we say, that you will keep your word and tell me nothing but the truth about just how you got the TARDIS here, and I'll save your world. Deal?"

"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me Davros?" she replied, cocking an eyebrow as what sounded similar to a twister began to form outside.

"… Sure, why not."

With that, Danielle released her frozen brother (who by this point had begun twitching violently within his icicle cocoon) and bounded over to the Doctor, promptly cupped her mouth in her hands, and whispered something very, very quietly in his ear.

One word.

Just one word.

The Doctor's eyes slowly widened and shock spread across his face, and he gradually balked at Danielle with a newfound curiosity. "How-?"

"No, later." She said immediately. "World. Save-y. Thing-y. Device-y. Whatever. _Now._" And pointed out the TARDIS.

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Rose had been given very specific instructions; stay in the TARDIS. In case Danielle and the Doctor didn't return before it was too late, activate the TARDIS and go to the set time period to save themselves.

Very, very simple instructions.

Stay. In. The. TARDIS.

So why didn't she ever seem to listen?

If only the Doctor would listen to _her_ for once; if only her opinions and feelings truly mattered to him. He simply didn't feel the same way about her as she did him; and sometimes, she doubted he ever would.

Not like that would stay her from her course; rather, it made her even more obstinate, granting her strength and courage she never could have found had she never met the Doctor. It was feelings like this that encouraged her to slip out of the TARDIS, leaving everyone else behind in order to follow them. She stealthily crept along behind them up the flight of carpeted stairs, creeping up them as she tried to keep enough distance between them to find out where they were going.

Just in case the Doctor needed help.

Totally not because she might have felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of the Doctor leaving with another girl to another room.

Without her.

Alone.

Rose shook her head as she continued to climb the stairway, something bothering her badly about it, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her feet pushing against the steps made a few squeaks here and there, but nothing loud enough to be heard over the raging storm outside. Through a window, she could easily see the sky turning an angry shade of purple, though upon closer inspection, she realized that it wasn't clouds turning different shades. The eerie light being cast in through the all but shattered windows came from massive rips in the sky.

Quite similar to the time she had watched her father die. Which apparently, Danielle had knowledge of.

Just another reason to keep a closer eye on this girl, whoever she may really be. Especially if she could motivate the Doctor into action with a single word. In effect, she was dangerous.

The only thing missing were the swooping beasts snatching people up. Rose grinned cruelly to herself as she thought of Danielle being devoured in an analogous fashion, before immediately berating herself.

_Not jealous…_

It wasn't too long before both the Doctor and Danielle were both out of sight, and it was then that Rose realized just why the stairway disturbed her so very much.

Every single photograph lining the wall in the entire Miller household only showed three people at a time.

Donald wasn't in any of them.

She shook her head and chalked it up to whatever was happening with the world falling apart, and continued following the Doctor.

Unbeknownst to Rose, however, she too was being followed.

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Today was just not Ryan Miller's day.

He tumbled out of the TARDIS awkwardly, as it was several feet off the floor (destroying yet another wall) and he attempted to sneak after Rose Tyler to ensure her safe return to the TARDIS.

At least, that was the story he gave the others. In truth, he just really wanted to get the hell away from those freaks.

And the way Donald had begun to imitate a minor seizure within his slowly cracking cocoon was _scaring the fuck out of him._

Sure, he was concerned for his safety.

But when the kid's eyes turn black with filmy sludge oozing out of them, his mouth open in a silent scream of horror as he jerked and twitched inhumanly inside a clearly visible frosty prison on the verge of shattering, that was B-Movie material. No, thank you.

It was mere moments before Ryan nearly broke his neck, tripping over a toppled armoire and slamming his elbows into the floor. A couple of bruises wouldn't really have bothered him – he'd had worse, after all.

No, what really pissed him off was the massive amount of noise he was making failing so very badly at being quiet. As a very scrawny person, Ryan usually found it easy to sneak about, especially when tyring to avoid his money-grubbing landlord.

_Shit, I still owe him seventy bucks…_ he sharply stopped himself, struggling to retain the fit of giggles he was suddenly overcome by. It didn't really seem like seventy dollars would be on his landlords mind right now. Ryan berated himself as he tried to remain silent, creeping along behind Rose Tyler.

And immediately falling back down the stairs and landing hard on his back on the carpeted floor when he stepped on a cracked picture frame, slipping backwards.

Ryan did his best not to groan in pain, and struggled to his feet. That damn stormy purple light drifting in through the broken windows must be screwing with his perception, or something.

The picture under his left foot crackled again as he straightened, having firmly stuck itself to the bottom of his shoe as he fell downstairs.

Hell, it was a miracle people half a mile away hadn't heard that.

What really caught his attention about the picture was that there was something very odd about it, but he couldn't quite name it. It was a very old picture, taken back when his Aunt Sarah was still alive, and her husband hadn't slipped off to another part of the world on 'business'. Back when she they had taken him in momentarily, before he inevitably ran away again, only to be tossed right back into the foster system.

He glared at the picture angrily, old memories quickly resurfacing.

Oh, how he _hated_ that woman.

That woman, who had shown him such kindness. The woman who had tried to teach him the meaning of life. She never really saw him as an outsider; she cared for him as one of her own children, protecting and guiding him along.

Never for the sake of love, though; he knew she never truly cared. It was pity that convinced her to take him in for that short span. Pity, and pity alone.

He _hated_ being pitied. The very nature of it implied that he wasn't strong enough to handle himself; wasn't mature enough to live without _needing_ someone to take care of him.

And because she had pitied him, he hated her for it.

_Meaning of life… hmmph._

He unthinkingly stuffed the old picture in his pocket, angrily jamming it as far down into his jeans as it would go without ripping directly through them as he continued along behind Rose Tyler up through the debris in the stairway.

Stealth be damned.

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"Are you certain this is the device?" the Doctor asked Danielle confusedly, peering around the heavily wired machine in Donald's (clichéd) hidden room behind the bookshelf. "This… isn't really what I was expecting."

"Whaddya mean?" she asked, sidling up next to him. "It's obviously a detector-thingy. You put the DNA sample in _here_," she said, pointing out the small chute on the side. "then it does some grinding thing and then the power goes out. Then it pulls you guys here!"

"Evidently," the Doctor said blandly. "But that doesn't really explain _how_ he even managed to develop a multi-dimensional genetic detection device in the first place, even with the help of the parasite w-… what is that?" he asked, staring at the screens lining the walls. Some of the scrolling texts had passed by, and amongst them were the words 'YANA Sequence Activated'.

"Oh, that's just… just… what happened when I… oh." Danielle said lowly. "… I think I might have fucked up."

"… How badly?" he asked, not turning to her.

"… Um. Well, you see, that thing is inside Donald's head, right?"

"Technically, it inhabits the entirety of his being, hence my inability to remove it posthaste. But, yes. Go on."

"I'm starting to wonder if maybe… it was there before the _Bleach_ crew showed up."

"You mean, you believe he may have exhibited odd behavior previous to their arrival in your world?"

"Uh, yeah, something like that…"

The phrase 'YANA Sequence Activated' scrolled back across the screens once more, lazily drifting by. Almost as if they were mocking her for what she should have been clever enough to realize before. Of just how much time and effort must have gone into building a multi-dimensional detection device.

But more importantly, the secret room behind a bookshelf where, in all practicality, there really was no room for it. Anywhere; his room was directly next to a guest room that Rukia had used. There was simply no way he could have done that with a corner room of the house.

So how did he come across technology that could make something… bigger on the inside?

"Like I said, I think we might be fucked."

"Again, how badly?"

"… How well do you know the Master?"

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"… Doctor?" Rose Tyler asked, as she peeked into a hidden room after searching all the others after the pair had disappeared. Really, she had expected him to be just a little bit angry at her, or display some emotion. Rather, she'd walked in just as Danielle had finished speaking.

The Doctor didn't look too angry, really.

He looked like he'd just shat himself.

"…. We have to leave."

"But-" Danielle protested.

"NOW." He said, grabbing her by the wrist and marching toward Rose. "You, too. Forget it; this world is doomed. We're leaving."

"No way!" Danielle shrieked, clutching savagely at the device in the center of the room. "You can't let the world be destroyed! _This is where I keep all of my stuff!_"

Rose was seriously confused. He just couldn't seem to make up his mind, could he?

"What are you talking about?" she inquired, glaring at him. "Can you save the world, or not?"

"Can or can't doesn't matter right now, Rose," the Doctor replied, still not relinquishing his grip on Danielle's wrist. "The parasite inside her brother isn't just going to give up; it's not going to stop just because the world was saved. It's going to keep fighting, and keep fighting, until there's nothing left of its host. and when it's done with that one, it'll continue on to a new host. It wants revenge on me for something I never did; rather, something it thinks I'm _going_ to do. And someone convinced it of that."

"… Is that just the long version of 'I don't know how I'm going to save the world this time'?" she asked.

"… Maybe."

"OH, FOR FUCKS' SAKE!" Danielle exclaimed loudly, letting go of the genetic detector, much to the Doctor's surprise. "I don't want to die! I say we just sacrifice someone to the volcano gods and pray they have mercy on our souls!"

"Don't be ridic-" he stopped himself as he released her from his grip, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Oh, no." Rose said nervously, backing away slowly. The loud ripping of the fabric of space and time slowly grew closer and louder to the house. She could have sworn she heard glass cracking further behind her. "He's got that look again."

"… You're not seriously considering going along with my plan, are you?" Danielle asked curiously. "I mean, seriously, where are we even going to find a volcano at this hour?"

The Doctor sighed a bit sadly, pulling the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and inspecting it closely. Almost as if he were refusing to look at her.

"… The rifts…" he began slowly, pacing back and forth within the hidden room.

Odd. His footsteps still echoed on the tile, even with the huge amount of noise outside.

"I believe the rifts and this Raxacoricofallapatorian-esque device interconnected."

"… And how does that save the world?" Rose asked.

"The rifts were created in opposition to the energy derived from the device – or, rather, the genetic strand encoded into the device necessary to power it properly."

"Meaning that it had not found Donald's location deliberately. It was only constructed to respond to his personal genetic code," Danielle said slowly, thinking aloud.

"Correct," the Doctor said, ceasing his pacing. "Or, at the very least, someone close enough on the family tree for it to have effect. We would literally have to throw this _entire room_ into one of the vortexes for it to have any effect. That, or…"

"Someone with Donald's genetic code." Danielle finished for him, the finality of it crushing her. She felt as if the room grew heavier, and it was difficult for her to breath. "Someone like… me."

The roaring outside had become unbearable. Any moment now, they expected to hear the familiar hum of the TARDIS as it left them behind, but the crew stayed patiently.

That should have tipped them off first.

Danielle breathed heavily, her black hair slipping over her eyes. She slowly pushed past Rose and stared directly out of Donald's somehow still unbroken bedroom window as the raging rift-storm whirled outside.

This wasn't just the end of the world.

This was the end of _her_ world.

She had to die.

She breathed in deeply, pushing her emotions into check as a massive hole ripped open outside the window, almost invitingly. Like a gaping maw, awaiting her death.

For the sake of the world.

For the sake of the people she loved.

For the sake of her brother.

"I made a promise…" she said, her head hanging sadly.

"Danielle…" the Doctor said, slowly starting toward her. Rose made a move to stop him, but he brushed her off, extending a hand to the despairing twin. "You don't have to do this, Danielle. Step away from the window. There's another – there's _got_ to be another way."

"… I promised. On the day she died, too. I promised my Mom. I promised her that I would always look after my baby brother." It felt as if a golf ball had lodged itself in her throat. She looked back at the Doctor and Rose, and she was on the verge of tears. She had to make her actions quick, or it would all be for nothing.

"I promised Mom. I promised that I would always take care of Donald, no matter what happened."

Danielle breathed in deeply, looking back out the window into the yawning abyss of no return.

Behind her, Danielle heard a rustle and rushing wind, only to be thrown harshly by surprise to the side and directly into the wall.

"THEN YOU'D BETTER KEEP YOUR FUCKING PROMISE!" Ryan roared as he flung himself, headfirst, out of the shattering second story window into the violet hell-hole.

Today was just not Ryan Miller's day.

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**Thanks for your continued reviews, everyone; they keep this gravy train rolling.**

**More on the way!**


	43. Chapter 43: Brain Droppings, Everywhere

**I swear, just when I think I'm going to kick this fic in the head and let it die, someone gives it a fantastic review and I just can't help but keep on writing.**

**Rough translation – I am an unapologetic attention whore.**

**But enough of that; care for another slice of fanfiction? TRY IT. IT'S FRESH.**

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"In! Quickly! Into the TARDIS!" the Doctor yelped, shoving both Rose Tyler and a horror stricken Danielle through the doors.

"Hey, where's-" Jack Harkness began, before Rose cut him off, swinging her arm in a panic at him. "Never mind that now! Just start the damned thing!"

"It's not 'a damned thing,' the Doctor grumbled as he shut the doors to the TARDIS. "She's a beautiful mechanical masterpiece, a lily from the garden of perfection, a-"

"Do you drive this thing, or fuck it?" Grimmjow asked him bluntly.

Jack snickered as he revved the TARDIS, the familiar whirring signaling their departure.

"So… world saved? Yes?" Rukia asked the Doctor, scrutinizing him. She looked even shorter in comparison when she stood in front of him.

"… Yeah. Sure. World saved." He said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Jack remained very quiet, but he nodded knowingly at the Doctor. He'd seen that look before.

"… Where's Greaseball?" Renji asked. Tactlessly.

"His name was Ryan. Ryan Miller." Danielle answered him, slumping against the wall of the time machine next to her frozen brother, who had been propped up in order to free Ichigo's hands.

"Yeah, but I- hang on. 'Was' Ryan Miller?"

"He… sacrificed himself. In order to save you. To save _all _of us." The Doctor said, bowing his head respectfully.

"Not quite everyone," Danielle said, resting her palm against the frozen person beside her.

"Oh! _Oh! Right!_" the Doctor proclaimed, slapping his forehead. "Sorry! Sorry! I didn't forget about him, I swear!" he leapt into action, gently motioning Jack to the side as he maneuvered multiple switches and levers on the controls to the TARDIS.

"Let me see… and… this here… no, wait – maybe if… no, no…"

"Uh… Doc?" Jack asked him. "Any reason why we're back in a time stream instead of, you know, going home?"

"Because," he answered without looking up. "I told her I'd help her brother. I can't do that if we're stationary."

"… Why not?" Ichigo asked, probingly. Hey, this was somebody who traveled through _time_. Couldn't hurt to slip a couple of tricks back to Soul Society.

If he ever returned.

"_Because,_" the Doctor continued as he fiddled with more of the controls absentmindedly, "a certain someone took absolutely no precautions _whatsoever_, forcing the majority of the rifts to implode rather dramatically. Normally, this would have just killed everyone on the planet outright. However," he said, scratching his chin. "however, thankfully the implosions took long enough that we were granted enough time to return to the TARDIS, and to use said massive backlash of energy to propel ourselves out of danger."

"Meaning… we can make it so that this never happened?" Danielle asked, perking up.

"… Almost." The Doctor responded a bit sullenly.

"So…"

"No," he said, predicting her question. "the rifts in space were dimensional, not time related in nature. Casting himself into the vortex wasn't a death sentence; he removed himself from _existence._"

"… Holy shit, dude."

"Indeed," the Doctor agreed, nodding.

Of course, that only served to make Danielle even more depressed. No one would even remember that he was even gone. Aside from her, of course…

"So… will going back in time stop Donald from becoming… like this?" she asked, poking at the cracking cocoon with one of her fingernails.

"Since I'm unable to tell for certain the exact time that the parasite infested him, no. I could just wind up making it worse. I can't even begin to describe how difficult it is to remove a Thinling from a human host body without killing them both, even though it's symbiosis process was evidently disturbed…"

"What do you mean?" Danielle asked.

"Well, just look at it," he said, pointing to her frozen brother. "When you're blue haired psychotic friend here - _Hey!_ – ripped him from his frosty perch, it interrupted the symbiosis process their kind have to go through in order to form a proper host to parasite relationship. It's what keeps them alive for so long."

"I thought they lowered body temperature and stuff to preserve their hosts?" Danielle said immediately.

"They do, but not for long periods of time. That's only in case of emergencies."

"… What kind of emergencies?"

The Doctor slowly pulled himself away from the TARDIS controls, allowing the time machine to drift lazily onward as he stepped down and kneeled in front of Danielle. He took a deep breath, and did his best to explain to her what he'd been trying to avoid for some while now.

It wasn't as if he wanted her to lose someone close to her so quickly _again_.

"You see… when the parasite takes over, it absorbs memories." He motioned with his hands, compressing them together. "With every host, it takes those memories along to the new one. It's one of the things that make them so very dangerous – very intelligent, very powerful. It can't let go of memories. I think that's why it's so intent on vengeance; whatever happened to this particular parasite, it's convinced that I'm to blame for whatever happened to it, and it can never forget it. It doesn't have the capacity to forgive."

He pulled his hands apart, almost pleadingly.

"But it takes all these memories, dozens, sometimes _hundreds_ of memories. It takes them all, and carries them to each new host. If the host and parasite don't mesh perfectly," and with this, interlocked his fingers slowly, "then the parasite has to find a new host. The memories can't stay behind."

"So, it's like a super powered brain leech?"

"…Almost, yes," the Doctor said, the corners of his mouth twitching. He became serious very soon afterwards though, and continued. "It has to complete the symbiosis process in order to keep its host alive and functioning. It doesn't lower the hosts body temperature drastically just for that…"

And with this, finally bringing his fingers all together, in a sort of sphere.

Again, almost pleadingly.

"It does it because the human body literally can't handle that many memories."

Danielle stayed silent, her eyes widening as the Doctor finished.

"… He'll burn up."

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_**Faster! FASTER!**_

"I'm _trying_, nimrod!" Donald shouted as he dashed along the wall of a brick corridor. Gravity seemed to shift unexpectedly here, and it was _seriously _throwing him off.

That, and there was a gigantic ravenous bloodthirsty walrus behind him that would rip out sections of the wall with its tusks. Which wouldn't be quite so bad, really; big bad thing, run away from it.

The walrus had seventeen eyes and had a nasty habit of teleporting at random.

"AAAAAGH!"

_**AAAAAGH!**_

"Why don't you stop the thing, for Christ's sake?!"

_**I cannot, my host!**_ Vee replied, his incorporeal voice echoing through the hall. _**I am losing form as we speak!**_

"What? Why?" Donald screamed into the air as he strained for oxygen, pumping his legs harder and harder to escape the massive _whump whump whump wha-raorar!_ of the killer neon orange walrus behind him.

_**I told you, the symbiosis process was interrupted; For you, my host, I am already doing absolutely everything in my power to ensure that you live.**_

"Oh, aside from stopping _killer fucking walruses?!_"

_**Fight back, my host!**_ Vee said, his voice becoming weaker.

"HOW?"

"WHA-RAORAR!"

_**Theater!**_ By this point, Vee sounded as if he were struggling to lift something heavy, his voice weak and breathy.

_How does Shakespeare – oh, Kino der Toten!_ He thought back to the odd theater of the damned he'd been trapped in with the four 'survival experts' and the moments before he'd blacked out.

The wave of psychic energy that had demolished half the stage and seriously ruined a horde of zombies' day.

Meaning that Vee hadn't been responsible for it.

Donald was.

He promptly stopped in his tracks, focusing his thoughts as he had before. The flopping of the gigantic flesh eating walrus directly behind him, he swiftly turned, palms out toward the beast as it lurched directly over him, mouth wide as it heaved forward to bite.

Only to be greeted by, quite possibly, the most epic bitch slap _ever._

WHAM.

The psychic energy collected in Donald's single palm hurled the massive beast five… ten… twenty… _thirty five…_ forty yards away in the opposite direction, not accounting for the length it continued to roll, if a bit belatedly.

The drain on Donald was abrupt and insanely enormous. His vision blurred as he began to notice his peripheral vision was failing horribly, and for a moment he thought that gravity had shifted again. Instead, he had slipped over to the side of the wall and collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Donald huffed and breathed heavily, gasping for air.

"Huh… heh…. Hah… heh heh… Did… did you _see _that?" Donald asked the empty air as more of this sector began to collapse and fall into darkness. "… And why is it _so damned cold?"_

"… Vee?" Donald asked, concerned that there was no answer.

"_Vee? _Answer me, Vee!"

_**Yes, my host,**_ he answered sluggishly, his voice faint and frail.

"Are you okay?"

_**Fine, my host. You must carry on.**_

"Where? How do I get out?"

_**I will guide you, my host… we are not of one mind. I cannot simply-**_

"Can you show me?" Donald asked, moving quickly to avoid being pulled into oblivion.

_**I… grow weak… my host…**_

Donald reached further into himself, and heaved out another surge of power. Not quite as large as the one he had used for the Epic-Walrus-Bitch-Slap, but still a sizable chunk. He attempted to keep a firm grip on it with his mind while simultaneously casting it out to Vee like a fishing line, only to discover that this was very stupid and used up all of his energy for nothing as he sank to his knees once more.

Perhaps not for nothing; Vee managed to grasp a single strand of energy, and used the immediate link to send large numbers of images to Donald, depicting a sort of way through the mental maze.

_**Off to escape, after you've pummeled the minotaur, eh, my host?**_ Vee quipped jokingly, his voice continuing to fade.

For someone who had terrified, manipulated, kidnapped, and outright tortured, Donald was sincerely worried about Vee.

_**That's just called Stockholm syndrome, my host,**_ Vee said, almost reading his mind.

The fact that Vee could no longer actually read Donald's mind frightened him severely, too.

"Almost there, almost there," Donald grunted to himself, his breath showing in the air, never slowing as the sectors continuously collapsed behind him. Each and every one was different, unique in its own way, but he never stopped to examine them. He even attempted to pour trace amounts of energy into his legs to jettison himself forward faster, but he couldn't really even tell if it was working or not.

_**Safety… is necessary… for you, my host…**_

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"There _has_ to be a way to save him!" Danielle said, worriedly. "There's _always_ a way! Where there's a will, right?"

"I am uncertain-"

"Well, _quit_ being uncertain, and save him! Turn him into a freakin' _snowman,_ or something, I don't care! Just don't let him die!"

"I _can't!_" the Doctor said dejectedly. "Even if the symbiosis process _has_ been interrupted, there's no way to remove the parasite without killing him! Humans aren't that simple!" he argued with her.

"_Then make him stop being human!_" Danielle yelled back at him angrily, clutching her frozen (and thawing) brother.

The Doctor merely blinked at her. That one had caught him by surprise. A statement to outrageous; so unbelievably _stupid_…

"… I think that might work."

"… Sorry, what?" Danielle asked.

The Doctor laughed, leaping up and running back to the controls on the TARDIS. "I think that'll work!"

"What?" Ichigo asked him, wondering how the madman was planning on saving Donald.

"I can't take the parasite out of a human, even with the parasite in its weakened form. But if he's _not human…_"

"What are you talking about, Doc?" Jack asked him, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"… Oh, my god. You can't be serious." Danielle said, letting go of her brother and standing, her knees popping as she grimaced.

"A very specific device, which allows the biology of one species to be modified to imitate the cellular structure of another species."

"The Chameleon Arch!" Danielle exclaimed.

"… Yes…" the Doctor said, awaiting her explanation as to how she knew this.

"… Uh, spoilers." Was all she said.

"Hmmph. Regardless," he said, flipping several more levers and gently lowering what looked to be a multi-pronged headset down from the ceiling. "if we can manage to force him into an alternate body, we might be presented with enough time to eject the Thinling from his body completely. Meaning you should all stand back. Very, very far back." He shooed the rest of the crew away, along with Ichigo, Rukia, Renji, and Grimmjow.

"The main problem being changing his cellular structure from human…" the Doctor grumbled, thinking fast.

"What about me?" Ichigo volunteered, stretching out a hand. "I'm what, part hollow?"

"Will that be enough?" Danielle asked.

"I don't know. What's a hollow?"

Grimmjow pushed past Ichigo, holding out his own hand. "Fuck that – I'm _full_ hollow."

"No one can get a proper DNA sample from you, Grimmjow." Danielle answered him. "Your hierro is a _bitch_ to cut through. We don't have that kind of time."

"Okay… _Okay…_ the Doctor said, ruffling his hair. He glared at his own palm, looking back at the Chameleon Arch. "I think I know what kind of genetic code to use…"

He began to lift Donald, who was by now almost completely thawed, toward the Chameleon Arch, but Danielle stopped him.

"No. He's my brother. Let me do it." Although she struggled a little, she managed to heave him over to the headset and attach it carefully to her brother's cranium.

To be honest, he looked a little silly. Like the time she'd caught him testing out her X-Box and got into an argument with a gaggle of preteens over whether Batman would beat Superman in a fight. She grinned to herself a little sadly, thinking of just how red he'd turned to find out after all his posturing about hating all types of comic books, he was still a Batman fan boy.

And she could lose him if she didn't act faster.

She moved with added gusto, carefully attaching the Chameleon Arch to him and giving the Doctor the thumbs up.

"Are you sure this'll work?"

"I don't know…" he said, hesitating over the button. "If I really press this, it could potentially endanger the-"

"Just hit the fuckin' thing!" Grimmjow yelled, slamming his hand down onto the button.

"A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**G**_G_**G**_G_**H**_H!"

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"Almost there! Almost… there!" Donald could see it now; the final doorway. The very first sector he'd been to when Vee 'opened his eyes'. Otherwise known as 'The Danielle Incident'.

The chaotic conglomeration of memory, imagination, and emotion.

And that was just a _fraction_ of Danielle's mind.

Jesus, that was one scary kid. He found a small amount of respect for his twin sister, then. That anyone could possibly have a mind like that and not be completely insa-

No,wait. Yes. Yes, she was clearly insane. Never mind.

The doorway loomed over him, and Donald hesitated, not very eager to return.

"Is this really the last one?" he asked the empty air, awaiting a reply from Vee.

_**I… c**_**a**_**n **_**o**_**n**_**l**_**y h**_**o**_**p**_**e S**_**o M**_**y **_**H**_**o**_**S**_**t.**

"Vee?" Donald asked quietly, his hand on the doorframe to the world of chaos.

"… Are you…" he felt it a little hard to swallow, but he continued. "Will you be okay… without me here?"

… _**F**_**oR y**_**O**_**u, **_**M**_**y **_**H**_**o**_**S**_**t. I w**_**O**_**u**_**L**_**d give any**_**T**_**h**_**i**_**Ng **_**T**_**o **_**E**_**n**_**S**_**u**_**R**_**e **_**Y**_**o**_**u**_**R s**_**A**_**f**_**e**_**T**_**y.**_

"… Goodbye, Vee."

And with that, Donald stepped through the doorway, fully expecting to be immersed in the whirling dervish of chaos.

Instead, what he found was much, much worse.

"A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**G**_G_**G**_G_**H**_H!"

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"Oh, shit! What did I do?" Grimmjow asked, eyebrows so high you'd have sworn they were trying to fly off his head.

"You didn't!" the Doctor answered him. "It's the parasite; it's still trying to force the symbiosis process into completion!"

Danielle lurched for her brother instinctively, only to be held back by the Doctor. He shook his head at her, motioning for her to back away. It hurt her to see her brother in so much pain and still be unable to help him. A light glow had begun to emanate from Donald, starting at his head and stretching down to his feet. It wasn't long, though, before the same light became dulled and darkened by thick, heavy black sludge that began to pour from Donald's ears… nose… mouth…_ eyes_- oh, that one was just nasty.

The sludge poured out of him continuously as he tried to scream through it. Some of it had pooled around him at his feet, but some of it had begun to strain up the cords of the Chameleon Arch, only to fail and wither halfway up and drop lifelessly to the puddle on the floor.

The light continued spreading throughout Donald, and his gargled cries gradually grew louder as the enormous amount of toxic slime left Donald's body, and the crew of the TARDIS was momentarily blinded.

"A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**A**_A_**G**_G_**G**_G_**H**_H!"

The slime slowly pooled itself together, slowly crawling away from Donald and toward the doors of the TARDIS. With a final little 'burp', Donald's eyes closed and he sagged to the floor, completely spent of energy.

"Donnie!" Danielle yelled, running towards him, her sneakers squeaking against the floor.

"Stay back!" the Doctor instructed, but to no avail. Fortunately, the liquid remains of Vee slowly continued toward the door, making no effort to attach itself to anyone.

She caught her brother just as he sank to the floor, gently lowering him so that he wasn't hurt.

Speaking of _hurt…_

A large number of cuts and bruises had reappeared on Donald's person as the sludge began to leave him. It even looked as if one of his arms were broken. What's worse, is that all of the wounds looked fresh, and he was bleeding profusely. The light within him, however, had not yet dulled, and glowed through the cuts in an odd sort of way.

"Oh, god, Donnie…" she said, clutching him tightly. "Don't you _dare_ go and bleed to death on me, after everything I've gone through to save you, you gigantic ass-hat. Don't. You. _Dare."_

"I don't think you have to worry about wounds," Jack Harkness interrupted.

"Why's that?" she asked, looking up at him as the rest watched Donald. Grimmjow, however, kept an eye on the slowly crawling Vee.

"Because Time Lords regenerate."

"What?"

The light within Donald had only just begun to fade; although as it did so, she noticed that the wounds Donald had acquired were slowly vanishing, healing themselves up in a natural manner, rather than being artificially bandaged by super-goo.

Regenerate.

_Time Lords regenerate._

"Holy sweet mother of Jehoshaphat."

"I think he still answers to Donald," the Doctor said, grinning. Donald, however, was not conscious in the slightest, however, so he didn't seem to be answering anytime soon.

The Vee-sludge had finally reached the doors, and Grimmjow had been waiting on it.

"Oh, here. Let me get that for ya." The Espada said gleefully, kicking the doors open. The sludge seemed to hesitate for a moment, before slowly crawling to the side.

"DON'T LET IT OUT!" the Doctor yelled, pushing past the crew to get to the sludge.

However, he was too late, as the sludge had already begun to drip out of the TARDIS.

"Do… do you have _any_ idea what you've just done?!"

"Uh…" Grimmjow answered. "Got rid of that asshole's brain diarrhea?"

"We're in a _time stream!_"

"… Is that bad?"

The last of the goop had finally slipped out of the TARDIS, leaving not a single trace of it behind.

"Bad? Is that _bad_?" the Doctor snapped. "His kind don't repopulate. By allowing him to literally _drip all over time,_ you just ensured the survival of one of the most dangerous creatures in all of _existence!_ Who knows _where_, or even_ when_ it could show up!"

"Oh, it could be worse." Danielle said. "And for you, it probably will be."

"What is _that _ supposed to mean?"

"Spoilers."

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**I can't believe this story has gone on for so long, folks.**

**And I have to admit, it's been pretty awesome.**


	44. Chapter 44: Hogyoku Ex Machina, Probably

**An epically epic epilogue of epic proportions. EPICALLY epic proportions, ideally.**

** 0**

It all ended so innocently.

A warm, breezy day. Hardly a cloud in sight. A clear forecast for the entire week, as far as weather was concerned, with lazy days ahead. Birds chirping, friendly people, and an overall air of inactivity and peace. Those rare, quiet days which are easily appreciated. Two such _supposedly_ appreciative people stood on a balcony in the cool fall breeze, watching the sun rise.

"Freakin' Déjà vu." Donald Millers stated frankly, tipping the rapidly cooling contents of his white coffee mug onto the flourishing bed of roses below the second story wooden balcony. His heavy brown hair danced drearily in the wind, tickling the back of his thin jacket.

"… Dammit, Donnie. You're killing my babies," Danielle breathed in frustration as she leaned against the balcony, watching the sun rise and shine off of the early morning mist.

"I can't help the feeling that I should have checked the radiator, or something…" Donald said, scratching his chin, deep in thought. He could have sworn he'd fixed it by now.

It was for the best, really. That he didn't remember.

Danielle was saddened when they had to depart from the crew of the TARDIS and the _Bleach_ members, though she supposed it was for the best that they were left behind first. According to the Doctor, the residual energy caused from the rifts was more than enough to fuel the TARDIS. More like _overcharge_ it, really, as he said that it should be more than enough to fuel it, but the massive amount of energy required to travel between not one dimension, but _two_ would likely wipe it out again. Hence, leaving the Miller twins behind before dropping Ichigo and his friends back in their own world, and speeding off toward their own dimension to finish it off.

What really bothered her wasn't that Donald didn't remember any part of the trip. It was that he didn't remember anything _since before Ichigo's arrival. _The Chameleon Arch had really done a number on him. She quietly fingered the fob watch in her pocket with her free hand, fingers running over the smooth alien etchings on the side.

Strange. She had it in her pocket ever since the Doctor handed it to her, but it was still so cold…

_He mustn't know. He mustn't ever, ever know. Do you understand?_

_Yeah, I know how it works._ Danielle had said to the Doctor, looking directly into his eyes.

_This watch,_ he said, placing it carefully in her hands_, is very, very important. It contains his memories; all of his memories up until this point. I've modified the Chameleon Arch to the best of my abilities, and I think this should do it. You are to never open this, do you understand?_

Danielle nodded furiously, black hair bouncing in front of her eyes.

_He is to only receive this if he is either dead or dying. He mustn't – he CAN'T know. He might be in possession of Time Lord DNA now, but his base genetic code is still that of a human. The perception filter should fix most of his questions, I hope… if he knows, if he even begins to _suspect,_ that he might not be completely human, then only tell him as much as he needs to know. Since the parasite was still attempting to complete the synchronization process when the Arch was activated, I can't really say for certain just what kind of effect it will have on him…_

_But at least he's alive,_ Danielle said, clutching at her unconscious brother.

And, indeed, he did look very much alive. Leaning against the guardrail in a relaxed manner, watching the sunrise. He wasn't nearly as pale as he was before, either. The dark circles underneath his eyes had all but vanished, and he just seemed like a more pleasant and upbeat, outgoing person.

In other words, the complete opposite of what Donald had been for most of his entire life.

Although, she had to say, she wasn't complaining about it. Whistling happily nearly everywhere he went, he was just so… _cheerful._ One of the few times she'd actually seen him brooding was when he was still stumbling around the house shortly after awakening, like he'd just discovered his sense of sight. He'd stop periodically at the pictures around the house, staring at them studiously. Whenever he found one of them with their mother in it, he'd grow very still for a short while…

At least until he realized Danielle was watching him, at which point, he would continue along his merry way.

One picture, though, caught Danielle's attention as well. A rather small picture frame in the hallway, normally blending perfectly into the wall and hardly worthy of notice, now became quite obvious for two reasons.

First of all, it was tilted slightly to the side, askew to the left. Donald, having obsessive compulsive disorder, hadn't so much as mentioned it once. As a matter of fact, she hadn't seen him arranging or straightening… anything, really. As if he'd never had OCD in the first place.

And, more importantly, the picture frame was completely devoid of any photographs. So long as Donald didn't bother to ask about it, however, she didn't press the matter. _The fewer questions he asks…_

It made her happy to see him happy for once, though. Even if he didn't really know why. Rather disturbingly, on the other hand, was his newfound impulsivity. Just earlier in the morning she had walked into the kitchen to find him sitting at the dining table, sipping a cup of coffee and staring at the toaster intently. Upon returning five minutes later, she had found the kitchen filled with interconnecting _Hot Wheels_ tracks, part of a disassembled toboggan, seventeen bits of string, a bowling ball, and three plates.

She watched in amazement as Donald tipped the small toy car, setting off a rather amusing chain reaction in which the bowling ball swung wildly over the kitchen attached to the strings, miraculously managing to not break anything and simultaneously press the starting button on the toaster.

"… Holy fuck, Donnie. I was only gone for five minutes. How long did you work on the Rube Goldberg?" she had asked him in amazement.

A quiet "About five minutes," was the only answer he would give.

Neither one of them had mentioned it since, and Donald really didn't seem too bothered by that particular incident, either.

After several long minutes of watching the sun slowly climb up the horizon in silence, Danielle quietly asked her younger brother, "Donnie?"

"Hmm?"

"Are… are you… I mean… I just…" she stumbled over her words, carefully discerning everything she tried to say.

"I get it." Donald said, setting his white mug down on the railing with a dull _thunk._

"… What do you mean?" she asked.

"I know all about it." He said, hands clasped firmly behind his back.

"You… you do?" she choked, her blood freezing in her veins.

_He mustn't ever know. If he remembers without the watch, if anything goes wrong… he'll burn up. He simply can't handle it until he's properly adjusted to his new body. It's a wonder his face is even still the same; I'd have really thought that would change, too. Only more reason for concern…_

"Yes, I do." he stated matter-of-factly, a small smile twitching at his lips.

_Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god-_

"And I've been thinking about it for a while now. So, I decided it would be for the best-"

_OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD._

"If I were to just give you your Christmas present early."

"Zabada-wha?" she said, riddled with confusion.

Donald pulled a small, brightly wrapped package from within his jacket pocket, handing it carefully to his twin. He grinned as she tried to unwrap it, fingers fumbling over the colorful sparkling wrapping.

Inside was a small, remote control helicopter.

Her mind raced back to the mall they'd all been to before the time jumps with the Doctor. The hollow that had appeared out of nowhere and nearly killed them. All the time they'd spent together.

She felt as if a golf ball had lodged itself in her throat. She fought desperately at hot tears that had slowly begun to well up in her eyes, and her chest seized up with every passing moment. Wyatt and his friends. The 'friendly' pranks she'd played on Grimmjow, and how worried about him she'd been when he left so abruptly. Trying so desperately to save her brother.

Ryan's unexpected sacrifice.

Almost losing Donald.

His frozen body.

"I know how much you like them, so I picked it up for you the other day. But, really, Christmas seems like such a long time away… did I even get you a birthday present? I can't reme- oof!"

Danielle squeezed her brother in a bear hug, sobbing hysterically into his shirt as she did so.

"Hnnk. So… I take it you don't like it?"

"It's… it's great!" she cried, gasping as she laughed, crying at the same time. "Thank you!"

"… You've been playing with my medication again, haven't you?"

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Donald slapped his forehead, berating himself silently.

Night had fallen, and he'd returned to his nightly routine of carefully brushing, flossing, and brushing again.

Hygiene was still very high on his list, evidently.

As he brushed, his blue silk imported pajamas brushing lightly against him, he couldn't help but note that they smelled slightly of… ew. Cat, perhaps? And sweat. Danielle probably borrowed them again without his notice…

Ah, well. Easily ignored, easily forgiven. But what really bothered him was that his mind kept going back to the strange things he'd caught himself doing on numerous occasions throughout the day. For example, pulling out the books on his shelf, continuously expecting something to happen when it never did.

_Madness is just doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results…_

Or when he alarmed himself badly by accurately predicting complicated chains of events, without really paying any attention to what he was doing. Sudden unexpected impulse buying, for another person, no less. Charity had never been his strong suit.

More importantly, the medicine he'd been prescribed that was supposed to repress his obsessive compulsive urges? He hadn't needed it.

At all. He'd grown used to taking it daily – and even then, it didn't always work. It was almost as if he'd become a different person overnight. Throughout the day, he would repeatedly stop what he was doing, and tilt his head slightly to the side, as if listening for someone that wasn't there.

And it _terrified_ him.

For some reason, this brought back a very, very faint memory. Not of much, but enough. Just a voice.

_For you, my host._

He didn't know why, but it made him very, very sad.

No matter how he tried to ignore it, no matter how hard he pushed it away, it continually nagged at him. And with his already naturally curious mind, it would never stop until he discovered why. Why it bothered him so much that so few things bothered him, how someone could undergo nearly a total psychological remolding in such a drastically short timespan – it made his heart pound.

_Bum bum bum bum._

It made his heart pound.

_Bum bum bum bum._

It made his _hearts_ pound?

_Bum bum bum bum._

Donald hadn't realized that he'd been brushing so hard his gums had begun to bleed. He immediately dropped the brush into the sink with a clatter, hands flying to his jugular, then to either side of his chest. And, sure enough, in irregular beat, was _an extra organ._

_Bum bum bum bum._

"Oh… oh, my god." Donald breathed, leaning heavily against the sink. How had he not noticed it before? How could this have possibly happened?

_I do not ask that you understand. I merely ask that you forgive me._

It felt as if a fever had overcome him, and the room began to slip and turn beneath him. He wasn't certain if he could keep down the small (and a little pitiful) meal that Danielle had offered to make of lasagna and caramel apples.

_In everything I do, that I ever do, I do for your sake. For you, my host._

For a moment, Donald felt as if the sudden fever would overtake him… but after a few minutes of calm breathing and forcibly closing his eyes, he gradually regained his strength and slowly pulled himself up from the tiled floor, using the wall and sink for balance.

He rubbed his eyes sorely, desperately trying not to reinvigorate a fever attack – and… where the hell were his glasses?

He checked the pockets on his silk pajamas quickly, patting himself down. Come to think of it, he hadn't worn or seen them, all day, because-

_Because he hadn't needed those, either._

His hands flew to his face, brushing up against his eyes and jugular veins again, the double heartbeat now so obvious to him. If Donald thought he was panicking before, by now, he was _freaking the fuck out, _as Danielle would have observed. Oddly (or thankfully) enough, the fever did not return, but the heavy heartbeat remained, and he discovered that analyzing the situation while under pressure was much easier than he anticipated.

No, what really concerned him now was finding his glasses. Not because he couldn't see without them; but because they were a vital part of his wardrobe.

A man never goes anywhere without a complete wardrobe.

Patting his face again (a bit stupidly, he thought to himself, since the glasses obviously weren't there,) he noticed a slight shimmer in the air behind him. Whipping around, he rubbed his eyes furiously once more. Perhaps he _did_ need glasses.

_Did I hit my head on the way to the floor?_

"Hey. Asshole. Lookin' fer these?" he heard a voice say.

His glasses hung neatly in the air in front of him.

Cracked, much to his dismay.

"You threw these away. When I broke 'em, remember? You went through, like, six. Come on."

The more Donald focused on the shimmering spot holding the glasses, the more a shape gradually came into focus. Eventually, the shimmering came into sharp contrast of a strange, pale, tall man with bright blue hair and eyes. Part of a bone-like mask clung to one side of his face, almost crawling up it. He wore strange white clothing, with a slim blade tucked neatly to his side on his shihakusho.

But more distractingly, the _big ass hole in his stomach._

Donald stared at that for several seconds, before the man shook the glasses at him, indicating that he should take them. Donald did, and placed them carefully on his nose. Hopefully the crack wouldn't prove to be too much of a problem. Once he could see the once-invisible man, he slowly backed away and breathed deeply, thinking quickly.

Before he could act, however, the man brushed his hand through the air. Or, rather, through the hole he had just made _in_ the air.

_Garganta._

Donald didn't quite know how he knew precisely what it was called, but it was noticeably large. Large enough for a single person to slip through, anyway.

The now visible blue haired man turned to Donald, and quietly said two words.

Just two.

That was all he needed.

"Get in."

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Danielle Miller was having a hell of a day.

Firstly, she almost had a heart attack when Donald surprised her with the kitchen-filling makeshift Rube Goldberg device. And then, the emotional rollercoaster with the toy helicopter (which was sitting safely on her shelf).

That, and she ran out of coffee.

To top it all off, she wound up sorely regretting offering to make dinner. Danielle usually stuck with something easy that she could snack on without sharing. She liked snacks. Very convenient.

Lasagna, on the other hand, burned easily.

Apparently, so do tablecloths.

And wall paint.

And wood.

But the fires had been put out, and she made it better. Not the lasagna. There was no salvaging it; Donald scarfed it down, anyway. No, candy apples cured _everything._ Mostly, her craving for candy apples.

It was when she heard a dull thump coming from another room, and her first thought put her off badly.

_Damn it, Kon's probably hanging stuff from the chandelier an- oh._

She stopped herself, before listening again. It was Donald, obviously – of course it was Donald. Although, it sounded more like he'd slipped on something…

Perhaps she should check up on him. That would be the responsible thing to do.

And besides. She wanted to distract herself from thinking about the _Bleach_ crew that she'd learned to live with.

What surprised her the most, though, wasn't her fangirl-y obsession with Grimmjow; no, what surprised her was that the more she thought about Ichigo leaving, it made her heart ache.

Huh. The people you can't seem to live without.

And if she felt that way about him when he left, she could only imagine the pain Ichigo must have felt the entire time he was in her home…

Constantly worrying about his family. Never knowing if he would ever see them again.

Forced to adjust to a new world, with new rules. No real way to fight back.

Though she would never admit it, it deeply hurt her when Ichigo confessed that he felt as if he were being held against his will.

And, really, he was. But it wasn't as if Danielle had the immediate opportunity to return him to his home. At least, that's what she told herself.

Shaking it off, she continued down the hallway, only to witness in shock as Donald slipped through a steadily vanishing Garganta in the middle of the air.

And, really, she was his big sister. She was supposed to look after him. She promised.

So what other choice did she really have but to follow?

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_**I have no name.**_

_**I am a paradox.**_

_**Born by my death, I elude the grinding wheel of fate.**_

_**Not even time can hold me within its grasp.**_

_**So I end, so I begin anew.**_

_**We shall grow accustomed to each other, shall we not, my host?**_

_**They do not understand your true nature. They do not see you as I do.**_

_**We shall amass a power greater than any before, my host.**_

_**We shall amass an army.**_

_**Shall we not?**_

_**Hogyoku?**_

0

**EPILOGUE.**

Ryan Miller was having a hell of a day.

After flinging himself into a whirling violet vortex of destruction and pain, it suddenly occurred to him that maybe, just _maybe_, that was a bad idea.

Ryan felt himself being pulled deeper and deeper into the whirlwind, the world vanishing behind him as the vortex yanked him this way and that.

Chaos. It was sheer chaos.

Pain enveloped him within seconds, and the tumbling and twisting completely disoriented him. This must be what it was like, being pulled into a black hole. He could have sworn he was being compressed, crushed, his very being ground down. His consciousness funneled to a single point as he slowly passed out, the whirling dervish of destruction whispering him a madman's lullaby…

And then it was over.

Curled up into the fetal position, his eyes clutched tightly closed, Ryan clutched his arms closely.

At least, he _thought_ they were his arms. For as much as he was tossed about, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference if any of his other limbs had been swapped out with others.

Very, very slowly, he gently patted himself, sitting up.

He was alive. He was _ali-_ OHHOLYFUCK.

Ryan immediately fell back onto his side, rolling slightly as he did so.

When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted with color.

Oh, god. So much _color._

The trees, the grass, the sky, the clouds – just these few things in his immediate vision were so damned _vibrant_ that they almost blinded him. He slowly pried his eyes open, squinting around and carefully taking in his surroundings.

Firstly, everything was so bright, so _surreal_ that it took him longer to adjust than he previously expected.

And secondly, everything was obviously _animated._

It looked like a cross between a cartoon and a druggie's fever dream. He could clearly see a window in the tree above him as he lay on his back, staring directly at it. His beady black eyes followed the massive tree, all the way down to the door at the front, very close to him.

Finally, his eyes slowly came to a set of animated legs, as he had suspected he would find as he took in everything else. His heart still raced at the prospect, though. It was crazy, impossible; it was _insane._

Animated sneakers, sticking out like little boats underneath his grimy jeans.

He wondered briefly what he looked like here.

And how he was ever going to get his rent paid.

"… Uh, hello?" he heard a petite, feminine voice stutter out. Propping himself up on his elbows, he glared around until he discovered the source of the noise. Somebody must have left a purple plushy doll sitting around near this-

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Twilight Sparkle."

"HOLY FUCK BALLS, A TALKIN' HORSE!"

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**Everyone, I simply cannot express enough just how much I appreciate your reviews, both old and new. You've helped me take this story places I never really thought it would, or even could, go.**

**And now, the potentiality of a sequel.**

**God help us all.**


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